The Boy at the Building Site
by imloopy
Summary: Dr Brennan is called in when a boy's body is found at a building site. Agent Booth wants to help out but he has problems of his own. Can they help and support each other? Now complete!
1. Chapter 1 Fight

**A/N**_The story I was going to write next is temporarily on the back burner, as Booth refused to co-operate; he complained he'd been through too much already lately. So this story came along instead, a little lighter - at least at the start. I can't promise beyond that - my muses haven't told me exactly how it works out along the way.  
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_ The characters etc don't belong to me, unfortunately, I'm just playing with them, and I promise to put them back where I found them - well, more or less._

_Nor am I making any money out of this, merely the experience of writing, which is in all senses of the word priceless._

_I can't promise to update as often as I did for the last story, since I'm writing this as I go along. Workload is heavy; on the other hand, the more work I have to do, the more I seek the distraction of writing, and this story is really busting to come out, so it shouldn't be too long between updates. _

_ Enjoy!  
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**Chapter 1 Fight**

Dr Temperance Brennan, Forensic Anthropologist, stood motionless, her heart beating fast. She braced herself for the attack she knew was coming. If she lost this fight – her mind blanked as she tried to imagine the consequences. This was one battle she could not afford to lose.

Her assailant charged towards her, and she managed to simultaneously block his attack and use his forward motion to send him crashing to the floor. He swung his legs round, trying to knock hers from under her, but she was prepared and jumped back. He was on his feet again in an instant, and back on the offensive. He grabbed her round the neck, and she staggered under his weight. For the moment she feared he had the advantage, but then he shifted grip and she managed to pull his head over her shoulder. He followed in a graceful somersault, landing gasping at her feet.

Again, he was up on his feet faster than she was expecting, and after a couple more moves his superior strength and weight was beginning to show. She was tiring, and running out of ideas. The urgency of her situation struck home to her, and this time she tripped him and landed on top of him. But he grabbed her by the wrists and rolled them both over. Now he was pinning her down. She was struggling to breathe underneath him, but a convulsion of her whole body managed to force him off. She rolled over and back onto her feet, then stood facing him. Both were breathing heavily.

He lunged again, and grabbed her, twisting her round and holding her tightly against himself. She dug an elbow in his stomach and he grunted with pain, but did not release his strong grasp. Desperately, she tried throwing him, but he twisted his body and managed to land on top of her, knocking the wind out of her.

This was it. The end was in sight. In an effort to evade the cost that would surely follow, Brennan frantically searched her memory for any move, anything that might enable her to avoid the inevitable. Then he relaxed slightly, his concentration wavering, and she saw her chance. She threw him away from her, dived on top of him, put him in a leglock and carried out her killer move.

"Hey, Bones, that's not fair! No tickling!" Booth writhed on the safety mat underneath her, desperate to escape the fingers relentlessly tickling his ribs. She laughed, and continued her assault.

"Do you surrender?"

"What? Yes, yes, I surrender!" he chuckled helplessly, unable to break out of the hold she had him in.

She eased off and moved away, laughing. "I told you I'd win." She moved to the corner of the dojo and grabbed her bottle of water from the bags lying there.

"Yes, but Bones, that was hardly a legitimate tackle, was it?" he challenged her, propping himself on one elbow and gazing up at her. "After all, in a real fight..."

"In a real fight, I'd have kneed you in the groin," she pointed out playfully. "I imagined you'd prefer me not to do that?"

He raised his eyebrows, and she saw him blush slightly. "Well, now you come to mention it..."

She put the bottle back in her bag, and held out a hand to help him up. He took it, but used it to pull her down beside him instead. "Are _you_ ticklish?" he asked, holding his hands over her midriff threateningly.

She had just opened her mouth to reply when a mobile phone rang out. They both jumped to their feet and dived for their bags. As Brennan fished for her phone, she cursed the interruption. Just when they were having fun! Although when she thought of the position they had just been in, perhaps it was just as well; she was not sure where they were headed, and right now the thought of finding out made her tremble with fear – and something else she couldn't identify.

She looked at the phone display; no-one she recognised. She pressed the button. "Brennan," she snapped briskly into the phone, smirking at Booth who was pretending to be disappointed that it wasn't his phone ringing.

She listened for a few minutes, asked a couple of questions, then hung up. "Sorry, I've got to go," she told Booth.

"You're just running away because you know I should have won!" he declared. "I demand a rematch!"

She grinned. "I've got other killer moves," she threatened.

"I can't wait!"

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_Well, what do you think? Please review!_  



	2. Chapter 2 phone calls

_Thanks for the reviews! Keep 'em coming :-)_

_ I still don't own them, and i'm still making nothing out of this except experience._

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**Phone calls**

Booth shoved his phone back into his jacket pocket, slung the jacket over his shoulder, grabbed his bag and waited until Brennan had finished her phone call. "So where are you off to?" he asked, forcing himself to sound casual.

"Pittsburgh," she answered, sounding preoccupied. "They just found a child's skeleton on a building site there. I'll drive up this afternoon and stay overnight."

"Anything for me?"

"No, the local police are handling it."

Bones sorted her bag out, pulling a light sweater over the tee shirt she was wearing, and pulled out her keys. "I guess I'd better go pack a bag," she said with a sigh.

Booth held the door open for his partner, swinging his bag onto his shoulder. "I'll see you when you get back then," he said, a trifle wistfully. "How long will you be away?"

"I'm not sure. Just overnight, I think. I'll check the bones out in the morgue, see what I can find at first glance, then bring them back to the lab for a proper look."

"Well, let me know if I can do anything, and I'll be there." Booth thought of his current workload, and wondered if he could manage to slip away for a day or so unofficially. It seemed strange for Brennan to be the one away working while he stayed in Washington.

She nodded. "Of course."

They walked companionably to the parking lot, and he stood with her while she unlocked the car. As she opened the door he was about to speak, but was interrupted again by a phone ringing. They both pulled their phones out, but this time it was Booth's phone. He grinned at her as he spoke into the phone. "Booth."

His expression changed as he listened. "What's the matter?...Why, what about? ...Tonight? ... Well, why can't you tell me now?... Rebecca!"

He shook his head in irritation. "All right then. What time?...Okay, see you then."

He flipped the phone shut and frowned. "Rebecca wants to meet me tonight. She wants to _talk_." He pulled a face at the last word.

"There's no problem with Parker, is there?"

"She wouldn't say what it was about. But knowing Rebecca, it's not going to be good." He was silent for a moment, thinking of his ex-girlfriend, the mother of his child. He still wasn't entirely sure what went wrong with that relationship, but the one thing that had gone right was his son. "Maybe she's going to muck around with my access to him again."

"Maybe she's going to allow you more time with him."

He gave a short laugh. "And maybe hell's going to freeze over. No, she holds all the cards on that one; I just have to accept what I'm given and be grateful."

Bones smiled sympathetically, and to his surprise and pleasure she touched him lightly on the arm. "Good luck with Rebecca," she said, then climbed into the car.

"Thanks, Bones," he replied, moved by her concern.

"Don't forget!" she called through the window to him as she drove away. "You still owe me a lunch!"

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_If you enjoy this story a quarter as much as I'm enjoying writing it, I'll be happy._

_Please let me know of anything you think I did well, or badly. Speculation also welcome!_


	3. Chapter 3 the body

_Thanks for all the reviews so far. And now we get to the body...

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**The Body**

Brennan pulled up on a dirt track road just off the main road into town. It was already occupied by several vehicles, including two police cars and a truck. She picked up her bag of equipment and began walking over to where she could see the familiar yellow crime scene tape cordoning off an area by a digger, on the far side of a churned up building site. She was greeted by a middle aged man wearing a scruffy blue suit and a scowl. He held his arm up to block her way. "No sightseers."

Brennan smiled at him and showed her ID. "Dr Temperance Brennan, of the Jeffersonian Institute. You called me in to look at a body."

The man looked down at the hand she held out, but made no move to take it. "Oh," he said. "I'm Ted Harvey, it's my investigation." He turned back to the crime scene. "This way."

"Thank you." She walked with him to a pit in the ground. It looked like they'd been digging foundations for another of the houses she could see all around in various embryonic states. A digger stood nearby, its bucket raised up as if to take another bite from the earth.

She ducked under the tape and jumped down into the pit, placing her bag on the ground beside her and pulling on latex gloves. Various builders and a couple more police officers were standing around staring downwards, and as she moved across the pit she saw what they were looking at. About a foot below the original ground level, sticking out of the side of the pit, was what she immediately recognised as a severed human femur. Next to it, embedded in the side of the pit, was another human leg. A pile of dirt nearby soon yielded the lower part of the severed leg, while at Brennan's instructions the top layer of dirt was removed from where the rest of the body lay. "A shallow grave," she commented. "The body would have remained hidden for years, if not for this development."

Harvey, standing beside her, nodded his surly agreement. "There was a lot of protest over this site," he commented. He worked quietly and efficiently, helping Brennan recover the body. She carefully took soil samples for Hodgins, then arranged for the body to be taken to the nearby hospital morgue.

"Any ideas?" Harvey asked.

She shook her head. "It's a boy, around 8-9 years old, Caucasian, and I estimate he's been dead around two years," she told him. "Anything more will have to wait until I've had a chance to look at the body more thoroughly at the morgue. I'll send it back to the lab for the others to finish the job thoroughly, but I'd like the first look myself."

Harvey climbed back out of the pit, and Brennan heard him ordering his officers to clear the builders from the area and send them home. One man, who was wearing a hard hat and looked like he was in charge of the site, was protesting loudly, but Harvey would brook no argument. He turned his back on the man and held his hand out to Brennan. She took it gratefully, climbing up the steep sides of the pit. "Good job it's been dry for the last few days," she commented. He just grunted.

"I'd like to talk to whoever first discovered the body," Brennan told him.

Harvey shook his head. "Sorry, that's out of the question." He turned away.

Brennan caught his arm. "I'm sorry?" Seeing his frown, she continued, "It's important for me to talk to him about what he first saw, how he was working, I need to find out whether the femur was broken before the digger went through it, for example."

"I'm sorry, Ms Brennan, but that's our job. Yours is just to look at the body and give us an identity." He turned and strode away, leaving Brennan spluttering with indignation.

Just as she was about to approach him again, he turned back to her. "I've arranged a room at the Emperion Hotel in town," he told her. "It ought to be up to your standards." He looked her up and down. Suddenly Brennan had had enough of him.

"I'll make my own arrangements, thank you," she snapped. She looked back along the main road. Not far away was a rather seedy looking motel. "I'll stay there."

He looked surprised, then sneered slightly. "If that's what you'd prefer," he said curtly.

Brennan turned away, carried her things back to the car and got in. She drove off without a word.

By the time she had pulled into the forecourt of the motel she was beginning to have second thoughts; the weeds around the edges of the parking lot and the grime on the windows of the buildings made her think longingly of the comfort of a hotel, but the idea of retreating after her stand against Harvey was anathema to her. She resolutely marched over to the office.

"Hello," beamed the chubby man behind the desk. "What can I do for you, ma'am?"

Brennan smiled, feeling a little more at ease. She explained to the man that she wanted a room for the night, and he cheerfully handed over a key to her, and offered to carry any bags she had.

"Don't worry, I can manage," she assured him. As he watched her write her name in the registration book, his eyes lit up. "Dr Brennan? Dr Temperance Brennan?"

"That's right." Brennan was amused that he seemed to recognise her name. He reached under the desk and pulled out a well-thumbed copy of Bred in the Bone. "I love your book, Dr Brennan. I wonder, could I ask you to...?"

She nodded. "Of course. What do you want me to write?"

"To Charlie, please." He seemed genuinely excited to have met her.

"There you go, Charlie," she said, scribbling a message in the book. "I'm glad you enjoy it."

"When are you writing another one?" he asked.

"I'm working on it at the moment," she said. "Well, between cases."

"Oh yes, the body at the building site." Charlie's face fell for a moment. "Awful shame, isn't it?"

She nodded and left him admiring his newly signed book, while she made her way to her room. She left her bag of clothes on the bed, then headed back to the car to find the hospital morgue.

Two hours later she was back at the motel, after a good session on the body. She'd pulled as much information as she could with limited resources, enough for Harvey to start working to identify the victim. Surly as the police officer was, she had to admit that he seemed efficient at arranging for the retrieval of the body and use of the morgue facilities.

She had arranged for the body to be sent back to the lab, where the rest of the squint squad could make use of the better facilities. She intended to do some writing, get some sleep, then spend the morning carrying out a more thorough investigation of the site where the body was found, before heading back to the lab herself.

But as she sat cross-legged on the bed with her laptop, she found the words would not come. As hard as she tried to write the next chapter of her novel, she found the action and adventure she was meant to write kept coming out too slushy. All she could think of was Booth, and how it had felt to sit on top of him, and have him at her mercy. She grinned to herself as she thought of the expression on his face when she had begun tickling him. What had begun as an argument about who would win in a fight between them had turned into a fun session together, until it was interrupted.

With a sigh, she closed her laptop and gazed across the room. She idly picked up the tv remote and started flicking channels. When she came across one channel, she recognised the name of the program about to start. Booth had mentioned it a few times. She settled back on her bed to watch it, wondering if he was doing the same back in Washington. She leaned back against the headboard, pulling the hard pillows around to make herself comfortable, and absentmindedly picked one up and hugged it to herself. Some time later, she woke to find her back was stiff, and dragged herself up to get undressed and into bed properly.

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_As always, reviews are very welcome! Constructive criticism, conjecture, suggestions...  
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	4. Chapter 4 Another Body

_And the plot begins to thicken..._

_Thanks for all the reviews so far. And I still don't own anything to do with Bones. Apart from my own bones, that is._

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**Another Body**

When Booth first woke up he struggled to remember where he was. Then a hard lump underneath him was revealed as a large toy car, and he realized that he had fallen asleep sprawled across the bed Parker slept in at his apartment. He groaned and pulled himself upright, rubbing a crick in his neck.

The bedroom felt empty, the floor clear and all toys, except the offending car, stored tidily in the large toy chest against the wall under the window. Booth stared round as if seeing the room for the first time, then shook his head, trying to clear it, and stretched. He shed his shirt as he walked down the hallway, then stripped in the bathroom and had a hot shower and shave. A few minutes later his body felt a little better, but his mind was still as clouded as ever.

He reached for a comfortable pair of jeans and a casual shirt, although he normally wore a suit to work. He was only scheduled to catch up with some long-overdue paperwork today; let Cullen complain if he didn't like it.

Booth grabbed some breakfast, then set out for work. Something definitely felt out of place to him. He was startled out of his thoughts when he realized he had driven to the Jeffersonian instead of to the Bureau. He pulled up in a parking space and sat for a moment, gazing at nothing. Then he figured that since he was there he might as well walk in and say hello.

"Morning, Booth," Angela greeted him cheerfully as she saw him enter the lab. "Brennan's not here right now."

"I know," he answered. "She's still in Pittsburgh, I assume."

Angela gave him a curious look, as if she was wondering how he knew where Brennan was. Then she nodded. She indicated the raised platform in the center of the lab. "The body they found was shipped here overnight. We're just working on an ID right now."

"So she'll be back soon," he mused.

"Yes. Angela looked at him closely. "Did you want her for something? Zack might be able to help."

"Oh, no, nothing in particular." He avoided the question, and asked about the Pittsburgh case instead.

"It's a boy, about eight years old. He was killed, probably by suffocation, around two years ago," Angela told him. "He was buried in a shallow grave on a bit of rough ground. When they started building on the land the body turned up."

"Not my jurisdiction, I understand."

"Nothing to suggest that so far, sorry." Angela indicated the papers in her hand. "I've just finished this lot, so I've got five minutes. Want some coffee?"

"Thanks," he said, and the two of them went into her office with steaming mugs.

"Something's wrong, sweetie, isn't it?" Angela said shrewdly, looking at him over the top of her coffee.

Booth shrugged and drank. "I just wondered when Bones was back in town," he said evasively. "I wanted to talk to her about something."

"You could ring her," Angela suggested.

Booth shook his head. "What for? I don't want to interrupt."

"We'll see about that," Angela said. She picked up the phone on her desk and dialed. "Hi Brennan," she said cheerfully when it was answered at the other end. "How's it going? Oh, okay. We were just wondering what time you'd be back. Oh – oh, I see. Hang on, there's someone here you might want to talk to."

She held the receiver out to Booth. He took it uncertainly. "Booth," he said.

"Booth, hi, what are you doing there?" Did she sound pleased to hear from him? He hoped so.

"What's new?" he asked her.

"We've found another body," she told him. "Another boy, around the same age, dead about six months. Booth – I'm a bit concerned. The guy in charge here doesn't seem to be very thorough – he was ready to let the builders start working again. It was only when I poked around a bit by myself that I found another shallow grave. I'm practically fighting with him to preserve the scene properly."

"Let me know if you find grounds for me claiming jurisdiction," he suggested, feeling uneasy. "My hands are tied otherwise. I suppose this means you won't be back just yet?"

"No, I'm stuck here for another night at least."

"Okay, be careful."

He hung up the phone and looked at Angela. "Tell me you can get me on that case," he pleaded.

"We're working on the ID," Angela assured him. "If we find out anything I'll give you a call, okay?"

"Okay, thanks." Booth took a last mouthful of his coffee. "I really ought to be getting to work, I suppose."

He got back in his car, made a sudden decision, and pulled out of the parking lot in the direction of Pittsburgh.

Several times on the road he very nearly turned back, and once he got as far as signaling to turn off the road, but each time he thought of Brennan he kept going. He made good time, and found the building site where the bodies had been found around lunchtime. He parked up and wandered past the unmanned crime scene tape over to where he recognized Bones crouching to the ground and arguing with a man who stood over her.

"Booth!" she said as she straightened up and saw him. "What are you doing here?"

He gave her a sheepish grin. "I owe you a lunch, remember?"

She indicated the man with her. "This is Ted Harvey. He's in charge of the case."

"This is your boyfriend, is it?" Harvey grunted. "I suppose you're off to lunch then. I'll get it sorted here, don't worry."

"He's not my..." Bones began but Harvey was already a few strides away from them. She turned to Booth and raised her hands in a gesture of helplessness. "What are you really doing here?" she asked curiously.

"I guess it's my gut telling me I'm needed," he answered. "Talking of my gut - come on, let's eat, I'm starving."

He took her arm and pulled her away from the site. They both got into his car, and he twisted backwards to reverse the car back to the main road, resting his arm on the back of her seat as he did so. "Know anywhere decent to eat around here?" he asked.

"There's a diner down the road, just past the motel. Their food is pretty decent, and it's close. I don't trust him, Booth. He'll ruin the evidence. He needs to shut that site down until it's all been checked over."

"I know," Booth tried to soothe her as he drove. "I'm sure he'll be okay for an hour or so. And you need to eat; I know you."

She reluctantly sat back in her seat as he drove them to the diner, which was within walking distance of the motel. They took a seat at the bar and ordered food. Just as they were finishing up the meals Booth's phone rang. He flicked it open. "Booth."

"Hi, sweetie."

He smiled. No mistaking that caller for anyone else. "Hi yourself, Angela, you found anything interesting?"

"We sure did. How does a kidnap victim from out of state sound to you?"

"It sounds like a chance to claim jurisdiction. Angela, you're a real angel."

He heard her laugh on the other end, and next to him he could tell Bones had stiffened and was paying close attention. He shifted the phone so she could hear.

"The kid was kidnapped from Youngstown, on the road to Cleveland. His mother still lives there."

"Could you send the file to the police station in Pittsburgh?" He gave her the details.

"Okay, sweetie, consider it done. I'd better call Brennan, before she gets mad at me telling you first."

"Oh, that's okay, I'll tell her," Booth said. "I think she's gathered the gist of it."

"Hi Ange," said Bones into the phone.

Angela burst out laughing. "Oh, God, Booth! You went there! You turned up in Pittsburgh? What did she say? Was she very mad with you?"

"Actually, she was quite pleased to see me – at least after I dragged her away from work and put some food in front of her."

"Oh, well, have fun kids, keep us up to date!" Angela hung up, leaving Booth grinning into the phone.

He looked at Brennan. "Well, I guess I just got jurisdiction on this case. Finish eating, and we'll go and relieve your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend!" Brennan retorted hotly. "Oh, I see, you're trying to get a rise from me."

Booth grinned broadly. "You're getting the idea, Bones," he said.

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_As always, reviews very welcome!  
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	5. Chapter 5 Interview

_I'm glad you're still enjoying this one. A note on the geography - Booth drove for around 3 hours to meet Brennan. I hope Pittsburgh is the right sort of distance to do this on clearish roads! Unfortunately, I've found no-one who will fund a visit to the settings for research purposes. Talking of which: _

_I'm making no money from any of this, they belong to Kathy Reichs and Fox, and whoever else is lucky enough to own a piece of these guys. _

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**Chapter 5 Interview**

Brennan strode alongside Booth back to the car, looking sideways at him as they walked. It had been a pleasant surprise when he had turned up earlier, just as she had been missing him and wishing that he could be involved in the investigation. It was purely for the case, she told herself; she had genuine reservations about the way Harvey was handling things, and it just felt better working with someone she knew and trusted.Somehow, though, she wasn't entirely convinced by her own arguments.

Booth said very little as they headed for the police station, where they found Harvey sitting amongst a pile of paperwork. Booth showed him his badge. "We've had confirmation of identity," he informed the investigator. "It's a kidnap victim from out of state, and I'm taking over the investigation as of now."

Harvey looked past him at Brennan. "Your boyfriend is an FBI agent?" he said.

Brennan opened her mouth to correct him, but changed her mind and smiled sweetly. "Yes," she said. "My boyfriend is an FBI agent." Booth looked across at her, but made no comment. She had a feeling he was storing it up for later though.

They flicked through the files. "Jason Swift," said Booth, reading the name. "Mother is Rachel Swift." He looked up in surprise. "The kidnapper was the boy's father, Ryan."

"Divorce?" asked Brennan.

He nodded. "He had regular access, but apparently decided it wasn't enough. No indication that he was likely to hurt the boy though."

"I guess we talk to the mother." said Brennan. They headed back for the car.

The journey was spent mostly in small talk, and Brennan giving Booth the information on the site where the bodies were found. They pulled up outside a typical small family house. "No sign of any other kids," Brennan commented.

"The file says the victim was an only child," Booth agreed. "I wonder if she remarried, or is still divorced."

They walked together up to the front door, and Booth knocked. After a few minutes the door was opened by a well-dressed tall blonde woman who looked at them curiously.

Booth showed her his badge. "FBI. Are you Mrs Swift? May we come in?"

"What's this about?" A sudden thought struck her. "Jason? You've found Jason?" She looked eagerly at their faces, and must have read her answer there, because she dropped to her knees and began to weep. Brennan stepped forward and put her arms round the woman's shoulders. She and Booth helped her into the lounge, where she sank into a chair.

After a few minutes her sobs died away and she wiped her eyes and looked up at her visitors. "I'm sorry," she managed. "I've dreaded this news, but I always told myself that he would be looking after him okay, and one day he'd find his way back."

"Mrs Swift," said Booth. "Could you tell us more about the boy's father?"

She stood up and went over to one of the shelves that lined the wall. She pulled out a photo album and brought it back, then sat down flicking through the pages. She showed Booth and Brennan photo after photo of a dark-haired boy playing with a man. The family resemblance was unmistakeable.

"He worshiped him," she said sadly. "How did he die?"

"We found your son buried in a shallow grave in Pittsburgh," Booth explained gently. "We believe he'd been suffocated. We're sorry for your loss."

"How long ago?"

"We found him yesterday. He died around two years ago."

She looked up in surprise. "He disappeared two years ago," she said. "He's been dead all the time? I can't believe it!"

"Do you think it was Ryan?"

She frowned, and took her time before answering. "I didn't think he would ever hurt him. But maybe – he was so upset when I wouldn't let him see Jason anymore, he said he'd find a way to get him back, I thought he meant get custody, but maybe he meant to take him away from me a different way. He took him from school one afternoon, and I never saw either of them again."

"Why did you stop him seeing Jason?" Booth asked.

"He was always criticising the way I brought Jason up. He was always making snide remarks. The poor boy found it so hard. He got upset whenever Ryan came for him, then he'd get upset again when it was time to come back. I felt it was too much for him. I never imagined he was in physical danger though, or I'd have kept him away long before."

"We don't know it was his father," Booth pointed out.

"Well then where is he?" the mother demanded. "Why didn't he tell me? Why didn't he report him missing himself?"

Booth just shook his head. "We'll let you know as soon as we find out more."

He stood to leave. Brennan looked up at him, surprised they were leaving so soon. He looked at her and shook his head, and she reluctantly followed him out of the house and back to the car.

He dug his keys out of his pocket, then threw them at her. "You can drive."

"Thanks." She waited for some explanation, but none came. Booth sat in the passenger seat, slumped down, and stared out of the window.

She allowed him his silence for a while, but began to feel it pressing down on her. "So when are you going to tell me why you really came?" she asked.

"I came to help you on the case."

"And because...?"

"Not now, Bones," he muttered.

"What did Rebecca want?"

She could tell that hit home by his reaction. He slumped down further in his seat. "Give me some time, Bones, please."

"All right then, what happens next? We look for the father, right?"

"It's not the father." Booth's voice was flat, without expression.

Brennan found herself feeling irritated. "You can't make that sort of assumption at this point. Anthropologically..."

"Oh forget your theory, just this once, Bones." Booth's anger came through clearly. "The father loved the boy. There's no reason to assume he would harm him in any way."

"You have no evidence for that. Then why would the mother...?"

"Because some women are like that. They make snap decisions, not considering the real needs of the child, and get surprised when the father gets upset and does something stupid."

Brennan considered that very carefully. Clearly there was something going on here that she was unaware of. Not wanting to annoy her partner to the stage where he felt unable to confide in her, she changed the subject and filled him in on the second body they'd found. Dead about six months, the boy was about the same age as Jason, and he, too, looked like he'd been suffocated.

"Do you think they're linked?" Bones suggested.

Booth shrugged. "That seems far more likely than the coincidence of two separate murders in the same area," he said. "Which backs up my theory that the boy's father was not involved." He sat staring out of the window, seeming reluctant to continue the conversation. Brennan decided to let him have the time he obviously needed to think through whatever was upsetting him.

By the time they reached Pittsburgh it was starting to get dark, and Brennan was hungry. "Did you bring an overnight bag?" she asked hopefully.

He nodded. "I always have one in the car."

"Do you want to check into the motel where I'm staying?"

"You're staying in a motel? Doesn't sound like you."

"Well, Harvey booked me into a hotel in town, but he was so strong on the alpha male domination attempt that I took exception to him organising me like that, and booked into the motel. It's not too bad a place really, and very close to the building site. The owner's nice."

Booth grunted. Brennan took that as a yes, and drove to the motel, parking Booth's car neatly on the forecourt. "If you go and book yourself in, I'll walk down the road and fetch my car," she told him.

When she got back a few minutes later Booth was just entering the room next to hers, carrying his black bag. "Give me five minutes, then we'll go get some food," she suggested.

He nodded and managed a smile. "I'm sorry, Bones, I know I'm not very good company at the moment."

"Well how about you talk to me over dinner?" she suggested, linking her arm through his. He seemed surprised at the contact, but squeezed her arm gently in his.

"That sounds a very good idea," he admitted with a sigh.

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_Thanks for all the reviews! More always welcome. Please let me know what you feel worked well, didn't work well, held your interest, made you want to read on... All will be inwardly digested and used to improve my writing for future parts and stories. _


	6. Chapter 6 Conversation

_Thanks for sticking with me, and as ever thanks for the reviews!_**

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**Chapter 6 Conversations**

Booth entered the motel room and threw his overnight bag onto the bedspread. He looked round the room, taking in the threadbare green carpet and the broken blinds on the window. Strange place for Bones to choose, he thought, but if she was next door he would put up with it. He met Bones outside. "Where do you want to eat?" he asked her.

"There's a restaurant round the block," she told him. "They have decent Italian food."

He rubbed his hands together. "Sounds good to me. I'm starving."

She laughed. They walked to the restaurant and were soon tucking into pasta. Booth refused to say anything meaningful until after they had finished. Then they moved to the bar next door and Brennan had a glass of wine, while he sat nursing a beer.

He looked over the top of his glass at her. "Rebecca says she's moving," he said suddenly.

"Does this mean you're moving too?" she asked, looking concerned.

He shook his head. "There's no point. She's moving to get away from me."

She was silent for a moment. "Why the hell would she do that?" she asked finally.

Booth stared into his beer. "She thinks it's bad for Parker to keep seeing me. She thinks it upsets him too much. She's scared that something will happen to me and it would break his heart."

"Oh, and it wouldn't break his heart to stop seeing you?" she scoffed.

Booth loved her for that. "You don't have to convince me," he pointed out. "For some stupid reason she's got it into her head that I'm bad for Parker and nothing I say will change that."

"What are you going to do about it?" Bones asked him.

"I honestly don't think there's anything I can do. I don't want to upset him, Bones. If I try to fight her on this he's the one who'll get hurt."

"He's going to be hurt anyway. And so are you. You can't just let her take him out of your life, Booth. I know how much he means to you."

"I don't have any choice. She wouldn't marry me, Bones. I don't have any control in the situation, I only have whatever crumbs she lets me have. I've had a part in his life for four years. It's going to hurt, losing him, but I don't see any other option that wouldn't hurt far more." He looked up at her. "I'm not giving up on him, Bones. I just can't think of anything that would help, right now."

Brennan moved her seat closer to him, and laid her hand on his arm. "Believe me, Booth," she said quietly. "Nothing you could do could possibly hurt as much as leaving his life without him understanding why."

"He's too young, Bones. He won't understand."

"Which is why you have to stick around."

He stood up, slammed his beer on the table. "It's not me who's leaving, remember!"

"Hey, calm down, I know," she soothed him, grabbing his arm and pulling him back down. She smiled at a man nearby who looked ready to jump to her defence.

Booth settled back down. "I'm sorry. I just feel so helpless."

"I know. But there must be something. Have you tried mediation?"

"She won't have anything to do with that. She reckons she's in sole charge of Parker and I don't have any say in the matter."

"That's cruel and heartless."

He gave a short laugh. "That's Rebecca for you!"

He walked to the bar and fetched another round of drinks. "Anyway," he said, sitting down again and trying to smile. "I didn't know your boyfriend was an FBI agent."

He loved it when Brennan blushed. "It didn't seem worthwhile to correct him," she ventured.

"So, tell me about him. Do I know him? Hey, I might even work with him."

Brennan picked up her wine and drank. "Thanks for the drink and dinner," she said.

"You're changing the subject, Bones."

"You changed it first!"

He laughed. "I'll try and talk to Rebecca again when we get back, I promise. Maybe I can get her to see sense. I have to admit, when she told me last night I just kind of yelled at her. I guess it didn't help my case much, right?" He tilted his head and looked at her slightly sideways. She put her arm on his shoulder, and he smiled at her. The pain at the thought of losing Parker was still there, but he felt better for having confided in Brennan. He had been aware of a nasty feeling at the back of his stomach that maybe Rebecca was right; maybe having a father in law enforcement wasn't the steadiest of lives for a four year old. But Bones accepted it without question; worked in the same field herself. Somehow her quiet acceptance of him made it easier for him to demand the same sort of acceptance from Rebecca, at least where Parker was concerned.

The conversation turned to lighter subjects, and before they knew it the evening had turned to late night. Bones looked at her watch. "We'd better head to bed, I suppose," she said lightly.

Booth jumped. How could she...? He laughed at himself. You idiot, Booth, get a hold of yourself. That wasn't what she meant. They walked together as far as the motel, Booth resting his hand lightly in the middle of her back. When they reached Brennan's door, they stopped, and she stood looking at him. "Thank you for the meal, and for the evening," she said softly.

Booth held his breath. "Thank you for listening," he said, and he bent to kiss her.

Brennan jumped back, as if his move had been to slap her. "I don't..." she stammered.

"I'm sorry, I thought..." Booth's voice trailed off, as he cursed himself to hell and back for making such a stupid move.

"No, it's just..." Brennan seemed to be fighting for words. She looked up at him, her head tipped forward slightly, and he could see tears glistening in her eyes. "You've been drinking. I've been drinking. And you're upset. I don't – I don't want to be your consolation prize, Booth. I don't want you to kiss me because we're both slightly drunk and because you think I can make you feel better. I don't..."

He put his hand to her cheek. "I'm sorry, Temperance," he said gently. "I didn't try to kiss you because I'm drunk, because I'm not, and I know you can make me feel better, because you do whenever I'm with you. But if you're not ready, then I'll wait. Because you're worth the wait."

He watched her let herself in her door without looking back over her shoulder, then went to his own room. Shutting the door behind him with more force than was strictly necessary, he picked his bag off the bed and hurled it against the back wall of the room, then threw himself on the bed. It hurt, more than he could have imagined. He was sure Brennan had feelings for him, but he knew she needed more time to get used to the idea of a relationship, and now because he was upset with Rebecca and because he'd been drinking, he'd blown it all. How could he be so stupid? His mind racing, he lay on the bed staring at the ceiling. Suddenly he couldn't bear to stay in one place. He changed into a tracksuit and running shoes, and headed out of the door. When he felt like this there was only one thing that had ever felt right; running until he could run no more, until he had run all the anger and fear and hurt out of himself.

He had lost count of the pairs of running shoes he had worn out since his last tour of duty.

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_You know what I'm going to say! Reviews are always welcome. I'll update whenever I can, but I'm away from my computer for a few days soon and might not have a chance to update for a while. The good news is it means more time for actually writing the stories :-) _


	7. Chapter 7 afterwards

_They still don't belong to me, although I keep asking nicely. Maybe for my birthday?_

_And I'm still making no money from any of this, sadly. _

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**Chapter 7 The aftermath**

Brennan let herself in her motel room, and shut the door gently behind her. She rested her head on the door and felt the anger prickle behind her eyes. It wasn't fair! She was just feeling comfortable with Booth. She had begun to convince herself that she was ready to take things further, then when he made the first move she froze up and acted as though he was trying to attack her.

She heard a bang from next door, as if Booth had thrown something. The bang felt like a physical hurt to her. She walked over to the bed, looked at her laptop resting on the table next to it, and pondered whether to try writing before bed, or to have another read through the preliminary results the squint squad had sent to her earlier.

She sat down on the edge of the bed. Or she could stop hiding behind work or her writing and go and see Booth and apologise, and see if there was any way of reviving their partnership after her behaviour, she scolded herself.

Brennan stood up and moved towards the door, but as she did so she heard the slam of another door. Peering out of the window she saw Booth leaving his room. Her heart sank as she thought for a moment that he was going to get into his car and drive away. But he moved past the car, and as he moved under the light of the office she saw that he had changed into running clothes. She moved back and pulled the covers off the bed. Kicking off her shoes, she arranged the pillows around her back and sat staring into space, wondering what to do. The rational side of her insisted that he would try again, that he knew she was attracted to him and that she had simply panicked. Another small voice in her head told her that he'd have to be crazy to try anything around her again and risk another rejection.

She stood up, having made a decision. She found a piece of paper and wrote a message on it. Then she pushed it under Booth's door, where he would find it when he got back from his run. She sat up on the bed intending to wait for him to return. And she found herself still sitting there, fully dressed, in the morning.

When Brennan woke up she remembered immediately what had happened the night before, and she groaned aloud. How could she have been so stupid? How did Booth feel about her this morning? She remembered the note she had left him. She had intended to go and speak to him when he got back, once he'd read the note, but falling asleep had prevented that, and now she had no idea how he felt about her.

She stood up and stretched, trying to work the kinks out of her back. She stared over at the window, but was too scared to go over to it. What if she looked out and Booth's car wasn't there? What if he'd come back and gone straight home? What if he'd read her note and then gone home?

Her phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. She picked it up. "Brennan."

"Sweetie, it's me."

She smiled. "Hi Angela, it's good to hear from you."

"Are you all right? You sound kind of strange."

"I'm fine. Just – I didn't sleep well last night."

"And how's Booth? Did he sleep okay?"

"Angela!" Brennan could not help laughing. "You're incorrigible, you know that, don't you?"

"Well, I have to try. Listen, we've got more results on the first body for you. The second body just got here half an hour ago, Hodgins and Zack are just squabbling over who gets first go."

"Okay, good. Listen, tell me the news then." She listened carefully.

When she had finished talking to Angela, she looked at the phone in her hand. It was no good postponing it, she had to go and face Booth sometime, and the longer she left it the worse she would feel about it. Summoning up all her courage while she had a shower and changed, she then headed next door.

She found Booth already up and half-dressed. "Come in," he invited her. She hovered on the doorstep, nervously.

"It's all right, I won't bite," he reassured her. "I won't even try to kiss you without your permission again, okay?"

She gave a small smile. Looking around the room, she spotted her note sitting on his bedside table. He followed her gaze, and smiled. "You write well," he commented. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised, since you've written a best seller and all."

"I always did express myself better on paper," she admitted. "I'm really sorry about last night, honestly I am."

"No problem. I've told you, I'm happy to wait until you feel you're ready."

"Thank you," she said quietly. "Angela called."

"Oh. Anything interesting?"

"They came up with more about the first body. Do you want me to tell you the details?"

"Only the condensed version, please. I don't need all the scientific minutiae. I don't think my head could take that this morning." He gave her a wry grin. "I was just about to shave. Mind if I carry on?"

"No, of course, you go ahead." Brennan followed him to the doorway of the bathroom uncertainly. When he realised she was just behind him, he indicated the bath.

"Take a pew on there and talk to me while I work, if you like."

Brennan sat down gingerly on the edge of the bathtub and watched as Booth carefully squeezed shaving foam onto one hand and smoothed it over his face. He turned to her. "Well?"

"Sorry." She saw him grin in amusement as he turned back to the mirror and took up his razor. Summoning up her recollection of the facts Angela had given her, Brennan tried to put them in some sort of order for a report to Booth. All the time, she was desperately trying not to be distracted as he gently pulled the razor over his cheeks and round his chin, angling his face to get a proper view in the mirror as he worked, and carefully washing the foam off the razor in the sink after each stroke.

When she lost her thread for the third time, he turned back to her, laughing. "What is the matter with you, Bones?"

She looked straight at him, her face serious. "Booth, you know that anthropologically, the father plays a large part in the raising of his male offspring. For example, I'm sure Rebecca would not be able to do anywhere near as good a job of teaching Parker to shave as you would."

He laughed out loud at that, then he wiped a last bit of foam off his chin with the towel. "Temperance, you said last night you didn't want me to kiss you because you were afraid I only wanted to do it because I was drunk and upset. If I were to try again – now – would you let me?"

"Do you know," she said softly, "I think I would."

So he did.

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_Well that seems a good point to pause while I go on vacation for a week :-)_

_Thanks for all the reviews, more always welcome. Did you like the end of this part? Too much? What about the shaving scene? For some reason watching a guy shave has a strange effect on me ;-)_

_Next update as soon as I can, I promise._


	8. Chapter 8 office work

_Finally I get to update this one! Enjoy :-)_

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**Office work**

The kiss lasted longer than Booth had expected – or hoped for. He stood holding on tight, savouring the feel of her in his arms. It felt so right, like a missing part of his life had been found and slotted into place.

Eventually Bones pushed him away and stood looking at him. He matched her gaze, absorbing every part of her as if he were seeing it for the first time: the steady blue eyes, the long glossy hair hanging over her shoulders, that adorable, kissable mouth. It was a while before either of them spoke.

Then Bones ran her tongue round her lips. Booth fought the urge to do the same. "Well," she said. Then she tried again. "I don't know what happens next."

Booth let out the breath he'd been holding. "Breakfast?" he suggested with a wry grin.

"No, I mean about us. I don't know what it means, Booth."

He smiled at the familiar phrase in this unfamiliar context. He loved it that this highly intelligent woman was so comfortable admitting she didn't know something.

He stepped forward and took her in his arms again. She put up no resistance. "It means that I care deeply for you, more than I should, and I hope you feel the same about me."

"Well yes, of course," she answered, gazing at him. "But I'm just scared."

"Why?"

"Because we have a case to work on, and all I want to do is stay here with you. We can't let it affect our work, Booth."

"It was already beginning to," he pointed out quietly. "Couldn't you feel the tension? I've wanted you so much, but I didn't want to scare you off."

She smiled, and ran her hand over his chest. "And I wanted you," she admitted. "I just don't want to get hurt over this."

He placed his hand under her chin and tilted her face up towards his. "The last thing I want to do is hurt you," he told her softly.

They kissed again, and this time he pulled away first. "But I really am hungry," he admitted with a grin. "So – breakfast?"

She nodded happily, and he pulled a tee shirt out of his bag and lifted it over his head. Grabbing up his jacket from the chair next to the bed, he indicated the door. "Shall we?"

They walked out of the door together, Booth carefully locking it behind him. As they walked across the parking lot, they met Charlie the motel man. He greeted them cheerfully. "Dr. Brennan, I see you know our new guest."

"Yes, Charlie," she replied, and introduced Booth.

"Is he a writer too?" Charlie asked with interest.

"No, actually I'm FBI," Booth answered, watching in amusement as he got the usual reaction: when people discovered he was a law enforcer they always got a strange look in their eyes as they searched their memories for anything they might have done wrong. "I'm here working a case."

Charlie nodded. "Ah, yes, sad business, that. Sad business. So young." He turned his attention back to Brennan. "How's the new novel going?" he asked. "Got much writing done?"

She shook her head. "A little. But there's the case to work on. I'm not really here to write; it just helps me relax in the evenings."

Booth smiled. He loved hearing Bones talking about her writing. He took her arm. "Breakfast?" he reminded her.

She nodded, seeming slightly uncomfortable at his touch, but not objecting. When Charlie disappeared back into the office she turned to him. "What's wrong?" he asked, suddenly worried.

"Nothing. It's just – I'm not used to this, Booth, and it makes me feel uneasy. Especially when we're supposed to be on a case. It's not – it's not that I don't like it, it's just that maybe we shouldn't make it common knowledge. Not yet. Not until we've both gotten used to the idea and know how things are going to work."

He nodded, but she didn't pull her arm out of his, and he didn't let go voluntarily. Instead, she gave him a small grin. "Of course, while we're among strangers it doesn't matter much anyway."

They walked together to the diner, where a young waitress greeted them. "I'm Sally," she said cheerfully. "Staying at the motel? Enjoying your stay?"

They explained that they were working on a case, and her face fell. "I saw something had happened over at the building site," she said soberly. "You never think anything exciting will happen where you live, then when it does you wish it hadn't."

They nodded, sat and ordered food, and waited until Sally had moved out of earshot. Then they looked at each other, unsure what to say. Booth winced inwardly. If they didn't get over this stage pretty damn quick, life was going to be difficult for both of them. He gave her what she called his charm smile. "What's the plan for today then?"

Brennan frowned, considering carefully. "I want to check they're searching the site thoroughly. I don't want them to miss anything else."

Booth nodded. "I want to sit and go through the file on the kidnap in detail, see if there's anything we've missed. And I need to keep on top of the investigation here. Then I want a chance to interview some friends of the family."

"You're investigating the father?" Brennan pushed out her bottom lip for a moment as she thought. "You said that the two deaths are likely to be connected, which would probably rule the father of one of them out, especially as they happened eighteen months apart."

"Until we have an ID and further information on the second boy, I can't rule anything out," Booth admitted gloomily. "I need to talk to people who knew the father, see what they have to say. After all, if it wasn't the father, then why did he disappear? Why didn't he report the boy missing?"

Brennan nodded. "That's a good point. Booth, I know you feel a personal connection to this case. I know that you're having problems with access to your son, and sympathise with the father, but you're going to stay objective, aren't you?"

He scowled at her, feeling hurt. "Of course."

She smiled cheerfully. "I thought so. I just needed to hear you confirm it."

Their food arrived and they ate for a while in silence, and then walked to the building site together to check in with the search team, before driving in Booth's car to the station.

Booth begged a desk and sat with the contents of the file spread out around him, ignoring the hostile glares of Ted Harvey, who really seemed to resent his presence on the case. Why did the locals always object to FBI involvement? You'd think they'd welcome the help, instead of getting so damned territorial.

Brennan sat at the other side of the desk with her laptop, reading the lab reports and chatting to her team about the findings on the second boy via the online video conferencing. Throughout the morning Booth found himself glancing up only to find Bones gazing over at him. They would both smile, as if sharing a secret, then look back at their work. Booth looked down at the file, trying to concentrate on his work, and decided to run through what they already knew. They had one dead boy, who had died of suffocation around two years ago. He'd been reported as kidnapped by his father at around the same time. They had another boy, dead only six months but also of suffocation, as yet unidentified. He rubbed his hand across his face. Whatever way you thought about it, the father of the first boy had to be important, if only because the boy was reportedly in his custody at around the time of his murder.

Booth's eyes were starting to ache from staring at all the detail in the file, and after a while he stood and walked round the desk. He placed a hand on Brennan's shoulder. "Want a coffee?" he asked her.

"Oh, hi Booth!" came Angela's voice cheerfully from the computer, and it was only then that Booth remembered the video link worked both ways and she could both see and hear him. He dropped his hand from Bones' shoulder, but was rewarded by a knowing grin from the artist. Bones turned away from the computer slightly and gave him a rueful grin, hiding her reaction from the camera built into the laptop. "Yes, please," she answered him.

"What?" He'd completely lost his train of thought, distracted both by her closeness and by Angela.

"Coffee?" she reminded him with a smile.

"Coffee. Yes. Coffee. Coming up." He backed out of range of the camera, mouthed "sorry" at Bones over the top of the screen, then went in search of the coffee machine in the hallway. He wondered how much Angela had noticed, how much she had guessed; how much she already knew was going on between them. So many people had assumed they had a relationship, that it felt like he had been the last to find out. Now there really was a link between them, it was going to be damn near impossible to hide it. He suppressed a grin. And what was wrong with that? But for now – well, although they couldn't hide it forever, they could sure have fun for a while.

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_Sorry it's been so long since the last update. No more interruptions, hopefully!_

_Please review - how did I handle it? This was the hardest part to write so far. _


	9. Chapter 9 more interviews

_Thanks for the reviews, I'm really enjoying the challenge of this story._

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Brennan turned and watched Booth until he'd passed out of sight into the hall, before turning back to the computer where she knew Angela was waiting for her. This gave her time to compose herself and smooth the smile off her face. She knew Booth's hand on her shoulder had been completely casual. He'd often touched her on the shoulder in passing, or placed a hand on her arm while talking to her. She'd got into the habit of doing the same to him. But she was sure that Angela had not missed the way he had looked guilty when he'd realised he was being watched. 

"So how is Booth?" Angela asked with a broad grin on her face.

Brennan decided to ignore her. Then as she was halfway through her next sentence she realised that her reaction, too, was a giveaway, and she stammered and blushed. Angela spotted that and hooted in delight. "That good, huh?" she asked.

Brennan welcomed Booth's return with the coffee. She murmured her thanks, breathing in the caffeine with gratitude and enjoying the momentary distraction. She looked up at him. "We haven't got an ID on the second boy yet," she explained. Booth leaned forward towards the screen to listen, placing his hand on the desk in front of her.

"He's about the same age as the first boy, but we haven't been able to match the facial reconstruction and description with any missing persons," Angela amplified. "LIBS indicates that he lived most of his life in the New York area. Carpet fibres were found on both bodies, a dark blue in colour, plus a few assorted fibres of other colours. Both show signs of suffocation, and bright red fibres were found around the mouth area, and in the case of the first child also in the lungs, indicating that material of some kind was held over their faces to smother them. There are injuries around the wrists and ankles, indicating the boys were bound before death, but no sign of other ill-treatment. Particles on the bodies show no indication either boy was killed far from where they were found."

Booth nodded. "Thanks, Angela. Let us know as soon as you come up with any definite ID for the boy."

He turned to Brennan. "We really need to get out and interview these people who knew the Swift family, just to rule the father out, but it looks like these deaths are both related. Unless there's a connection between the boys, it's unlikely to be the father of one of them."

She nodded, thankful for the opportunity of a break away from the computer. "Can I come?"

"Of course."

Thankfully she signed off the video conferencing session, shut the laptop and placed it back in her bag. Booth collected his jacket from the back of the chair he'd been using and fished his car keys out of his pocket. They walked out together, ignoring Harvey's glowering expression.

As they neared the car Booth slipped his arm around Brennan's shoulders and kissed her gently on the cheek. She smiled and turned to him, wrapping her arms around him. "Do you think Angela guessed anything?" she asked him with a mischievous smile.

"Well, knowing Angela, I'm not sure she would need to guess – I think she knows exactly how we feel about each other," he joked, holding the car door open for her.

She climbed inside and fastened her seatbelt, twisting round in her seat to watch as Booth took the driver's seat and inserted the ignition key. He glanced across at her. "What?" he asked, sounding self-conscious.

She just smiled. "I like watching you drive," she said.

He pulled a face at her and started the engine. "You're in charge of the satellite system then," he said, and she obediently reached forward to program the gadget.

The journey passed quickly – too quickly, in Brennan's opinion. She had learnt to enjoy her journeys with Booth. In the past they had debated anything and everything, with Brennan usually arguing science against Booth's more personal reactions. This time, the conversation took on a new dimension, as the memory of the change in their relationship overlaid all that they said.

They pulled up outside a small, unprepossessing house with garden toys strewn around the front yard. Two small children yelled at each other and fought over a bucket, while an older girl ignored them, sitting on a garden chair with her nose in a book.

Booth and Brennan exchanged glances as they got out of the car. Booth walked up the path to the door, with Brennan close behind. She looked at the children: they seemed well cared for, if somewhat loud.

Booth rang the doorbell, a few minutes later the door was opened from inside. All this time the children had totally ignored them. The older girl lifted her head from her book a couple of times to yell at the younger ones, but otherwise paid no attention to anything around her. Booth showed his badge to the woman who opened the door and introduced them both, and they were led through to the back room.

"I'm sorry," the woman apologised, moving stacks of books and toys off a couple of chairs. "The children never clean up – what can I do for you?"

Brennan looked at Booth, who seemed quite content to let her to take the lead. "Mrs Perry," she said. "We believe you know Rachel Swift?"

"Rachel?" She nodded. "Oh – she called. She's a good friend, you see. She said you'd found Jason's body. So terrible."

"Yes. Mrs Perry – we'd like to ask you a few questions. You knew Jason and his father as well, I understand?" Brennan glanced around the room, seeing photos of the children on the walls.

"That's right. We were good friends. Ryan and Paul – my ex-husband – were drinking buddies."

"Can you tell me what the relationship was like between Ryan and Jason?" Brennan watched Booth out of the corner of her eye. She knew his feelings on this case.

"Very intense. He worshiped the boy, felt he could do nothing wrong. I know Rachel and Ryan argued about him a lot. He felt Rachel was bringing him up wrong. He hated it when she told him off about anything. He spoilt the boy rotten."

"Do you think he would ever hurt the boy?" Brennan could feel Booth tense up as she asked the question.

"No. I know they argued a lot, I know that Rachel hated him having contact with the boy – but no, I couldn't imagine him ever hurting Jason."

Booth relaxed slightly. He nodded. "Thank you," he said to the woman. She looked puzzled.

"Mrs Perry," Brennan went on hurriedly. "Do you have any idea where Ryan Swift could be right now?"

She shook her head. "No. Sorry. But you could try asking Paul, if you could find him. I'm not sure where he's living now, but he did work at the local garage. I've hardly seen him since he moved out to be with his new girlfriend three years ago, when I was pregnant." She almost spat the last word out. "If you do go see him, remind him that he has kids himself, please."

Booth stood up. "Thank you for your time, Ma'am," he said, holding his hand out for Brennan. She stood up as well, and smiled at the woman as they left.

"Well?" she asked as they walked back to the car.

Booth turned to look at her. "I told you he wasn't involved," he said.

"So where is he?" Brennan could appreciate Booth's feelings; she could not bear the thought of a man hurting his own son either, but that still left them with two murdered boys and a missing father.

"Let's go and see his friend, shall we?"

After a pleasant lunch at a small restaurant in town they managed to track Paul Perry down in a small apartment building. As they stood knocking at the door Brennan considered the property. Smaller than his wife's house, it did not look the sort of apartment to house children for any length of time. "I wonder what sort of access he has to his kids?" she murmured softly. "It didn't sound as if he tried that hard."

Booth shook his head. "Some people don't care for their kids," he admitted.

The door opened, and a man they assumed was Paul Perry stood in front of them. Booth flashed his card. "We're looking for Ryan Swift," he said. "Do you know him?"

The man blinked sleepily, then nodded. "Yeah, I know Ryan," he said cautiously. "What's he done?"

"He kidnapped his kid."

"That was ages ago," the man blustered. "And what's it got to do with me?"

"We were hoping you had some idea where to find Ryan," explained Booth. "His son's body has been found."

"No kidding." Perry whistled between his teeth. "I haven't seen him. Not since he took the boy. Wasn't expecting to. His wife – sorry, ex-wife – she's a bitch, that one. If she ever caught him she'd bust his balls." He shook his head in pretend sympathy. "Tell you what; if I hear from him I'll let you know."

He tried to shut the door on them, but Booth put his arm out and prevented him. "We'd like to hear what kind of man Ryan Swift is," he said. "What the relationships were like in that family."

Perry leaned against the door frame, looking bored. "Rachel Swift is a bitch," he said after a few moments' thought. "Ryan adored his son, wanted to see him all the time. She wouldn't let him. Said it upset her routine. She was so hard on the poor kid, always yelling at him, putting him down. Ryan told her to stop, but she wasn't having it. Then she told him he wasn't to see the boy any more. Ryan just snapped. He said he would get the boy from her, whatever it took."

He had little more to add, and soon Booth and Brennan found themselves back at the car.

Brennan looked at Booth. "Well, it looks like your instinct was right," she said with a sigh. "It doesn't sound like the father hurt the boy. There's inconsistency though – Mrs Perry said that the father was too lenient, Mr Perry said the mother was too tough. I wonder what the truth was."

"The truth, Bones?" Booth kicked irritably at a stone lying on the pavement, sending it skittering into the bushes at the side of the road. "The truth is that bringing up a child is one of the hardest things in the world. If you've got two people who aren't working together as a team, it becomes almost impossible."

Brennan gave him a sympathetic hug, and he gave her a reluctant smile, before they both climbed silently into the car and drove back to the motel.

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_Please, if you're enjoying reading, review to let me know. _

_And if you're not enjoying it, why not review to let me know why not. All (reasonable!) feedback welcome._


	10. Chapter 10 joining and parting

_Time for a little fluff, I think, before we settle down to real business with the case._

_Thanks, as always, for the reviews._

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Booth parked the car in front of the motel, and turned towards Bones. "Dinner?" he suggested.

"That's very kind of you to offer," she said demurely. "I'd love to have dinner with you."

He grinned. "The diner, I suppose." On impulse, Booth held his hand out to Brennan and they walked to the diner with their fingers laced together. Booth gave Brennan's hand a gentle squeeze before he finally let go, and was pleased to receive an answering squeeze.

Sally was still working there, and greeted them cheerfully again. Just as they were sitting down Brennan's phone rang. She looked at the display, then at Booth. "It's Goodman." She frowned as she answered it.

Booth sat waiting patiently as she talked to Dr. Goodman. She did not seem too happy about something, he noticed.

After a few minutes she hung up and looked at Booth. "I've got to go back," she said, frowning. "I've got a meeting with Goodman and a Dr. Callahan from Quebec tomorrow at ten, I'd forgotten about it. And Goodman says the team need my assistance with the second body."

Booth scowled. "When are you leaving?" He felt his heart sink. He didn't know what he had expected from tonight, but Brennan rushing back to DC definitely hadn't been on his list of possibilities.

"I really ought to travel back tonight," Brennan picked at the tablecloth, deep in thought. "Or I could get up really early tomorrow morning," she added thoughtfully. "I'd have to leave by about six, but I'd catch clear roads and I'd be better rested and ready to drive."

"_Or not_," Booth thought to himself. Out loud, he said, "That sounds a more sensible idea. We could set the alarm for five."

Brennan looked up at him sharply. "We?"

He froze, suddenly concerned. How the hell had that slipped out? Then he saw she was smiling suggestively at him, and relaxed. After all, she had been the one who suggested she could stay the night. He felt he was justified in feeling curious as to why...

"Well," he said, trying to save face. "You don't think I'll let you go without seeing you off, do you?"

They discussed the case quietly over dinner, then sat over drinks. Booth really didn't know what he expected to happen when they left the diner. He wasn't sure Brennan knew, either.

Eventually he stood up and stretched. "Well, you've had an easy time of it today, but I've done a lot of driving and my shoulders ache, and you've got an early start tomorrow. I'm going to head back to the motel. Coming?"

Brennan stood up. "That sounds a very good idea." When they reached Brennan's room Booth hesitated, but she nudged him with her shoulder. "I'll rub your back if you like."

"That's an offer I can't refuse," he joked, reaching for his key.

"Take your jacket off and lie down," Brennan ordered when they were in the room. Booth did as he was told, lying at full length in the middle of the bed, his arms stretched out sideways. Brennan sat beside him on the edge of the bed, using her fingertips to gently massage his back and shoulders. She pulled his tee shirt out of his pants and up towards his neck, so that she could reach his bare back. Although he felt stiff at first, unfamiliar with the touch of her fingers on his bare back and not sure what she was intending, he found himself sinking into the bed, relaxed and comfortable.

"Booth? Are you falling asleep on me?"

He turned over, laughing, and smiled up at her. "Not yet!" he answered with a grin. "I'm just enjoying the massage."

"Well, in that case – I can give a better massage if you take your tee shirt off."

"Hey, that's not fair! How come I have to strip and you don't?"

"If it makes you feel better I can remove my clothing too, but then you have to give me a massage."

Booth pretended to think for a moment. "That could be arranged," he said with a grin.

Booth was amazed at how comfortable he felt with Bones. He remembered back to the fight they'd been having when they'd first heard about this case, and decided it was time to get his own back. Soon he had Bones wriggling and writhing under his tickling fingers. And then she stopped giggling and kissed him instead...

The alarm went off loudly in Booth's ear. He flung out a hand, fumbled for the off button, then lay in bed, idly running his fingers up and down Brennan's hip. "I wish you didn't have to go," he complained, watching his fingers as they brushed her skin.

She lay on her side, propped up on her elbow, gazing at him. Her long hair fell down to one side, brushing the pillow. How come she looked so beautiful at such an early hour?

"You know I've got to," she said quietly.

He looked up at her. "I know."

"I don't want to go."

"I know."

"But I have to attend this meeting with Goodman. And the rest of the team really need me on this other body. I can't stay here just because I want to. I have a job to do, and I can do far more good back at the lab right now than by staying here."

"We both have a job to do." Booth sighed, and lay on his back, staring up at the greyish ceiling of the motel room. "I hate to admit it, but I need to stay here and concentrate on getting this bunch properly organised. Much as I'd like to go back to DC with you, I can't." It hurt; this thought that he would be parted from her. He knew that it wouldn't be for long, but still – he tensed his fists in frustration.

Brennan put up her hand and stroked his face. "It won't be for long." She echoed his thoughts. "And I think we both know that if we put our relationship before the case then we won't last long."

He nodded, knowing she was right.

Less than an hour later, they were both up and dressed. Brennan packed her bag into her car, and then turned back to him. "I'm going to miss you," she said softly to him, and kissed him again.

Booth tried his hardest to remain impassive, but somehow he just couldn't manage it. Why was it that he found it so hard to hide his feelings from this woman? Rebecca and Tessa, the two other women he'd any kind of serious relationship with lately, had both complained at how hard it was to know how he felt; Bones seemed to read him like a book. Now she placed her hand against his cheek, and he moved his face to kiss it gently.

"Drive safely," he murmured to her. She smiled.

"You catch the murderer, so you can come back," she ordered him.

"For you – anything."

"Not for me. For those kids."

He grimaced and nodded. Watching her get in her car and start the engine, he fought off the urge to run along beside her and wave a handkerchief or something equally sappy, and instead turned away to his car, planning to head into the office and see exactly what was going on with the search team. Logic suggested that with the boys dead for so long a day or two wouldn't make much difference to catching their killer, but his heart told him that he had to close this one fast and get back to the city and to his Bones.

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_A/N: have you gathered my opinion of phones yet? intrusive, annoying, and rarely bringing you news you want to hear._

_Maybe I'd better try to redress that balance over the rest of the story :-)_

_As always, your reviews are very welcome. Was that too much? not enough? need more plot? need more fluff? _


	11. Chapter 11 working part I

_And so back to work on the case :-)_

_I always enjoy reading your reviews, and they always spur me on. But this is the first time reviews have actually influenced the content of a chapter. I bore in mind the comments from people who felt they'd had it just a touch too easy in the last couple of chapters. _

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Brennan arrived back in the lab just after nine am, and immediately headed for the pile of papers that had amassed on her desk in her absence. She was in no mood to talk to anyone. As she had travelled further and further from Booth physically, so she had felt herself separate from him emotionally as well. She couldn't help going back over the events of the past couple of days in her mind, and was starting to have the terrible suspicion she had read the whole situation wrong. It all felt like one big dream. She had entered this new stage of her relationship with Booth imagining that he cared as deeply for her as she did for him, but what if she was wrong? At no point had they discussed their relationship. Maybe it was just a physical attraction for him, the need of the alpha male to assert his dominance over the alpha female. She was begging to feel that maybe she'd royally screwed things up between them. 

She felt strongly that the only way to find out where they really stood was to solve this case and be back together in the same city. Only then would she be able to talk to Booth and find out where they stood.

The last thing she wanted to do right now was to talk to Booth. She was too afraid of what she might hear.

She thought of talking to Angela, but they had agreed to keep this quiet for now. Who had originally suggested that? Was it her, trying to give them a chance to get used to the change in their relationship before making it public, or Booth, seeing this as an opportunity to pretend nothing had happened between them?

No, she couldn't talk to Angela either, not now. She didn't feel ready. The only thing she could do was bury herself in her work. That usually helped when she wanted space to think things out on her own.

She checked through the file for the first boy. Angela had done a good job on the facial reconstruction, as usual; apart from the hair, which was mostly guesswork, she had captured a good likeness. That had helped confirm identification in the missing children database.

Decomposition tests confirmed her first estimate, that the child had been dead around two years. This placed his disappearance firmly close to the time he had been abducted by his father. Brennan found herself distracted by the thought of Booth, and the agent's relationship with his own son. How could she imagine he would take on a serious relationship with someone who had said publicly she didn't want children?

Irritably, she shook the thought off and got back to the file, looking at Hodgin's summary of his findings on both bodies.

Soil and particulates all confirmed the area in which the bodies had been found; nothing had been discovered to change their original theory, which was that the boys had been killed in the area near where they had been buried. The bodies had both been naked when found, which suggested some sort of assault had taken place, but there was nothing to confirm that on the bodies themselves, apart from wrist and ankle injuries which indicated the boys had been bound tightly before death and had both struggled to free themselves. Brennan thought of these poor boys, frightened and alone, and again she thought of Booth, working hard to find their killer.

The boys both had traces of cotton fibers in their lungs and around their mouths, dyed pinkish-red. This was consistent with a cloth or cushion or similar article being held over their faces to suffocate them. There were also two types of dark blue fibers: the lighter ones appeared to be carpet, the other of a heavy denim-type material.

She turned her attention to the second file. Angela had produced a sketch of a boy with curly hair and a lively expression on his face. Parker's face floated in front of her eyes, and she resolutely pushed it away. The second file was almost identical to the first, apart from the presence of identification details, and it was becoming unarguable that the two deaths were the work of the same killer, but without an identification on the second boy any link would be hard to find.

An extra sheet in the second file, Zack's report on the second body, attracted Brennan's attention, and she read with interest. The second boy showed signs of old injuries, specifically a spiral fracture to the right ulna and a greenstick fracture to the right femur. She headed out to the bone room to check Zack's findings, and found more evidence to back up her theory. She was still absorbed in what she found half an hour later.

"Goodman is looking for you," Angela said, standing beside her.

"I know. The meeting's not due to start for another fifteen minutes," Brennan answered absently, studying a metatarsal under a microscope.

"So, when do I hear about Booth?" Angela went on.

Brennan looked up sharply. "Hear what? I told you, Angela, there's nothing to tell."

"So why were you two looking so guilty on the video link yesterday?"

"For the last time, Angela, we were not looking guilty. Now please, drop the subject."

"All right, I'm sorry, Sweetie, I didn't realize you were so twitchy about it. I'll wait."

Brennan could tell Angela was even more curious by this point, but she could not bear to even think about the FBI agent. Opening that door promised to open a whole world of hurt, and she refused to go there. "We need to identify this second body," she said, tapping the file in front of her.

"We've been trying all we can think of, but there's no match on the missing children database for any kid like this, either from six months ago or for four years before that. Zack is looking further back now, but the further back we go, the harder it is to feel sure about the match," said Angela apologetically.

"I've had an idea." Brennan glanced down at the notes she had made. "This child has suffered fractures that would have needed medical attention. Get Zack to check the hospitals in the New York area for a child brought in with these injuries. We might be able to track him that way."

"Wow, why didn't we think of that?" said Angela admiringly.

Brennan shook her head. "It's only a remote chance, Angela," she warned. "That arm injury was caused by someone twisting his arm, and it didn't set right. It's entirely possible he never received medical treatment for it." She sighed. "It looks like not only was this boy murdered, but he was treated badly for most of his life." She handed Angela a list of injuries and the approximate age at which each would have occurred.

She turned to leave the room. "I have to go to this meeting with Goodman. Let me know what you find out."

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_As ever, I love to hear what you think. Do they deserve to get their act together? Should they just concentrate on the case and leave the relationship to later? You know where the review button is :-)_  



	12. Chapter 12 working part II

_Apologies for the delay. This part is unbeta'ed, so any mistakes are all mine._

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_  
After breakfast at the diner Booth headed over to the office. They had agreed that he would hand in Brennan's key and check her out; her start had been too early for the office to be open. Now the door was unlocked, but the room was empty, and Booth stood leaning on the counter looking round idly. A photo of a young boy behind the counter brought back memories of his last conversation with Rebecca, that he'd managed to avoid thinking about in the events of the last day with Bones, and he starting wondering how he was going to solve that problem.

Charlie appeared from a door behind the counter, and greeted him cautiously. He noticed where Booth had been looking, and beamed proudly. "That's my son. Handsome lad, isn't he?"

"He certainly is," Booth agreed.

"We spend a whole week together every summer, just the pair of us." Charlie smiled at the memory. "What can I do for you, Agent Booth? Checking out?"

"I'm checking Dr. Brennan out," Booth answered, dropping the key on the counter. "She had to leave really early, so I said I'd drop the key in."

Charlie picked it up and put it on the hook behind him. "Sorry to see her go," he remarked. "Will you be leaving anytime soon?" He seemed eager for the answer to be a yes.

"I'll be leaving when I've finished with this case," Booth answered shortly. He signed Brennan out, agreed that Charlie should charge her credit card, then walked over to the building site to check the status of the investigation. What he saw there made him less than happy. Workmen were gathered round their machines, while one man wearing a hard hat and looking like he was in charge was talking animatedly to Ted Harvey. When the investigator saw Booth he touched the foreman on the arm, then walked towards the FBI agent.

Booth met him halfway. "What the hell's going on?" he demanded, gesturing at the heavy machinery around them.

"I'm about to authorize them to start work," Harvey answered. "It's a big development. We can't hold it up for no reason."

"What - you're kidding me!" Booth shook his head. "No way does any work start here until I say so. We're dealing with a serial murder case. This is a murder scene. And no-one does anything here other than search for further evidence."

Harvey looked seriously annoyed, and turned back to the foreman. The foreman looked furious, and Harvey took hold of his arm and walked him away so he could talk to him privately. The two seemed to be having a big row, Booth noticed. He turned to all the men who had gathered round to hear what he had to say.

"No work will be done here today," Booth assured them. "Go home. This is a crime scene, and it can't be disturbed."

Reluctantly, muttering and cursing among themselves, the men eased back and some started to leave, but the foreman angrily brushed Harvey off and headed straight for Booth.

"You can't hold up work here," he fumed. "This is a million dollar development, and we can't afford any delay."

"I appreciate your concern," Booth told him firmly. "But this is also a crime scene."

The man swore loudly at him. Harvey said something to him under his breath, and the man shook his head and stormed off. A few minutes later they heard a car engine revved violently and tires squeal on the road.

Booth glared at Harvey. "I told you, I've taken charge of this investigation," he said. "No-one gives any orders around here that I haven't approved."

Harvey shrugged. "It seems pointless to me," he said. "We searched all day yesterday without finding anything. There's nothing left to find."

Booth shook his head, wondering if Harvey was deliberately trying to cause trouble or was just useless at his job. He had words personally with every officer on the site, making sure they knew exactly what they were looking for and what area they were searching, and then headed back to his car to check in at the station. There he spoke with another officer who was coordinating the enquiries. They had been showing photos of Jason and Ryan Swift around the area, seeing if anyone recognized them.

Of course, after two years it was a long shot, but Booth had hopes that someone at least would be able to place them in the area. But so far they'd come up with nothing.

Booth found himself thinking of Bones, and wondering what she was doing. He had achieved absolutely nothing at his end; he hoped she had managed to get somewhere with the bodies. Perhaps she, in the lab, could achieve what he couldn't out in the field. When he had first worked with her, he had seriously doubted the usefulness of her methods, but they had been proved time after time, and now he wondered if he was starting to place too high a value on her work. Then he thought again of some of the cases she had helped him solve, and knew that he literally couldn't do it without her.

But could he work with her, and have a relationship with her at the same time? Not if all she wanted was a physical relationship. He realized that now. Surely she wanted more, though. Didn't she? Was she willing to let down her guard and let someone in for a real relationship? Was she ready?

He shook the thoughts impatiently out of his head, and headed back to his car. There were a couple more of Ryan Swift's friends he needed to talk to. He was still trying to build a picture of the boy's father in his mind. Was he a man who loved his son so much he couldn't bear to be parted from him? Was he a man who had unrealistic expectations of his son, then murdered him when he found the boy couldn't live up to those expectations? Or was he a victim too, his body still to be recovered? Those were the questions he should be focusing on.

On the drive out of town Booth forced his thoughts to stay on the case. Thinking about Bones was pointless; he could achieve nothing, and what he wanted to do was to solve this case as soon as he could. Only then could he go back to DC, see Bones, and find out exactly where they stood.

He was unable to locate the first person he tried, a friend of Ryan's, but managed to find Leila Jones, whose son Chris was one of Jason's friends. She seemed shocked at the news of Jason's death, and called Chris in to speak to Booth.

"Did you ever meet Jason's parents?" Booth asked him.

"Yeah." The boy perched on the edge of his seat, staring down at his feet.

"What did you think of them?"

Chris looked up at his mother as if asking her how to answer. She nodded for him to continue.

"His mom – she was really strict," he said reluctantly. "His dad was cool. He'd let him do anything he wanted. Jason always wanted to be with his dad."

Booth looked up at the mother, and she shook her head. "Rachel Swift was a good mother," she said firmly. "Ryan Swift let that kid get away with anything. It's no wonder he would prefer to be with his dad. Ryan just didn't know how to say no. No backbone, that one."

"He had enough backbone to kidnap his son," Booth pointed out.

"Yes, but he'd have soon had enough. When he learnt what it's really like to care for a child, instead of just giving them a good time. He'd have brought him back."

But would he have killed him? The thought rose again in Booth's mind as he got back into his car. He was just debating with himself whether to grab some lunch at a diner or eat in the car, when his phone rang. He listened to what the caller had to say, hung up, sat thinking for a few minutes, then flipped his phone open, hit the button his finger automatically went to without looking, and waited for an answer.

"Brennan."

He smiled. "Where will you be in a few hours, Bones? I'm coming back to DC. We've had a breakthrough."

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_As ever, your reviews are welcomed - especially since the next two parts are proving hard to write. The story is mapped out until the end, but the middle is a little more elusive!_


	13. Chapter 13 lunch

_Yay! The document uploader wouldn't play, but I found a way round it._

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_**Meanwhile, back at the lab... **_

When Brennan finished her meeting with Goodman it was midday, and she suddenly realized she was starving. Somehow she and Booth had not gotten around to breakfast that morning. She thought of him for a moment, wondering how he was getting on.

Avoiding the rest of the squint squad, since she really was not in the mood for more of Angela's cross-examination, she decided to call into Sid's for some lunch, but as she walked in and headed towards her usual table she was startled to hear someone calling after her. "Bones!" Turning, she half expected to see Booth there, although he was out of town and the voice didn't even sound like his. She saw instead a small boy, clutching a woman's hand.

"Parker!" she said in surprise. She had met Booth's son on a couple of occasions, but didn't realize he would recognize her, or know who she was.

The woman with Parker smiled. "I'm sorry," she said. "You must be - Dr. Brennan, isn't it? I'm Rebecca, Parker's Mom. I've heard a lot about you."

"I'm pleased to meet you," Brennan said. "Please, call me Temperance."

"We're having lunch," said Parker excitedly. "Do you want to have lunch with us?"

Brennan shook her head, but Rebecca nodded. "Please do, Temperance, if you'd like to. I'd love to have a chance to chat to you. You probably hear this a lot, so let's get it over with - I really enjoyed reading your book."

Brennan agreed to have lunch with them, and they sat down together at a table. Much to her amusement, Parker insisted on sitting next to her.

"Bones, where's my daddy?" Parker asked, looking solemnly up at her with those startlingly familiar big brown eyes.

"Don't call her Bones, darling," Rebecca corrected him. He looked at Brennan for help.

"My name's Temperance," she said to him, saying her name slowly. "Your Daddy is the only person who's allowed to call me Bones." She smiled so that he wouldn't think she was cross with him. "And he's out of town at the moment, working on a case, but we're trying to get it solved real soon so he can come back and see you."

Parker looked disappointed. "Tempance," he said. "Will Daddy be back on Sunday? He's taking me to the zoo."

"I hope so," Brennan told him. "We're both working really hard so that he will be."

Rebecca looked annoyed at the news that Booth might miss the outing. Brennan wished she'd be more understanding.

"I have to admit," said Rebecca, "I do have one or two things I want to ask you."

Sid brought them food, and they started to eat. "Tell me, Temperance," Rebecca said. "Your work with Seeley - is it really like it is in your book?"

Brennan thought for a moment as she chewed her mouthful. "Some of it is," she admitted. "But there's a lot more to it than that. There's a lot of routine work, as well as the more exciting parts."

"It makes me see him in a new light," Rebecca said. "I never really understood properly what he does. I mean, you see on TV shows, and you hear things, but - this felt like I was reading about him personally." 

"Well, a lot of the book is dramatized, and of course the characters aren't really based on any one person," she explained. "But the basic procedure, that could all happen. It's just condensed into a shorter time, for narrative purposes."

Rebecca nodded. "I never really showed that much interest in his work, but I guess what he does is pretty important, isn't it," she said. "Dangerous, too."

"So are a lot of jobs." Brennan dismissed Rebecca's concerns and continued eating, wondering whether to say anything about Booth and Parker. The woman seemed a lot more friendly than she had been given to expect. But then, all she had learnt about her so far came from her ex-boyfriend.

They chatted about Brennan's book, and about life in general, while they ate their meal. Brennan gradually relaxed. She wasn't usually good with small talk, but practice with Angela was paying off. She found she was starting to enjoy Rebecca's company. Perhaps that was why she took the step she did, once Parker had finished eating and went to talk to Sid.

"Booth was pretty upset the other night," she said eventually. "He said he'd had a fight with you over access to Parker."

Rebecca looked cagey. She absorbed herself in studying her meal, moving the last bits of noodles around with her chopsticks.

"I told him I'm moving out of town," she said. "He took it badly."

"What did you expect?" Brennan stared at the other woman. She had been hoping Booth had misunderstood, or had been exaggerating. "Why on earth would you want to move Parker away from his dad? The role of the father is incredibly important, especially for a young boy."

"I have a right to move if I want." She sounded defiant, as if trying to justify her behavior to herself.

"Surely you surrendered the right to do whatever you want when you had a child. Your main responsibility should be to him while he's still so young. If what you want will cause him hurt, then no, you don't have the right to do what you want."

"He's getting hurt anyway. Seeley's let him down a few times lately, and he's getting old enough to notice." Rebecca looked down at the table, running her fingers along the edge of the tablecloth. "It upsets him, and when Parker's upset I get upset. It's too unsettling for him, being mucked about like that."

"We were working a case," Brennan pointed out. "We needed to catch a murderer. Sometimes that entails overtime."

"I know." Rebecca was silent for a long while, and Brennan thought she'd said all she had to say on the subject. Then she heard her say, very quietly, "My Dad walked out when I was about Parker's age. He'd always promise he was coming to take me out for the day, and he'd never show. Every time, it broke my heart, and every time he swore it would be different next time, and Mom would let him do it again."

"But Booth's not like that. Booth hates letting Parker down. He would never hurt him for no reason." It irritated Brennan that Rebecca could think Booth would be that uncaring.

"Even so, it hurts him," Rebecca insisted. "However important the reasons why Seeley cancels, it still upsets Parker, and he doesn't understand. And I won't keep putting him through that. Better to have a clean break now than constant disappointment."

"So you think you have a right to take his father away from him?" Brennan questioned angrily.

"I'm not taking him away. Seeley's doing that himself. I'm just protecting my son. Like any mother would. Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot; you wouldn't understand. You don't like children."

"I don't want children. That doesn't mean I don't like them," Brennan corrected her automatically. Those words had been uttered on TV a few months ago as part of an interview. Was she going to be living them down for the rest of her life?

"But still, you can't expect to understand what it's like for a mother, seeing her child hurt," Rebecca snapped.

"I can understand what it's like for a child whose parents disappear," Brennan snapped back. "It hurts, Rebecca. No matter what the explanation, you can never understand. No one can ever heal the hurt. And you're intending to do that to Parker. How can you? What right do you have to take him away from his father?"

"I'm just protecting him," she insisted.

"No, you're hurting him. If Booth were to let Parker down, which he won't, then yes, Parker would feel hurt. But it would be between him and his father, and he would understand that. But even if you're just trying to protect your child, if in the process he feels abandoned, then he'll blame you for it. When he grows up and finds out what you did - and he will find out - he will find it very hard to understand and to forgive."

Brennan paused for breath. She looked at the horrified look on Rebecca's face, and suddenly wished she could swallow all her words back. She hadn't even been talking about Rebecca and Parker, she realized. She'd been talking about herself, and her parents.

"I'm sorry," she said lamely. "I shouldn't have said all that."

"It has nothing to do with you what I do with my son. Nothing."

"What you're doing is hurting my partner, and that has a lot to do with me." Brennan saw the shock on Rebecca's face, and wondered if the woman had misunderstood her use of the word partner. Then she realized that perhaps she hadn't misunderstood, perhaps it was just that she herself hadn't thought through the implications of her new relationship with Booth.

"Come on, Parker, we're going." Rebecca stalked over to the bar, paid Sid for the meals, then left, not even letting Parker say goodbye. The boy stared back over his shoulder, looking bewildered and trying to wave. Brennan could appreciate his confusion. She was left staring at the remains of her own meal, and wishing she could wind the clock back and start lunch again. This time, she would keep her opinions to herself. But although she regretted saying what she did to Rebecca, she still believed in her words. Denying a father access to his son was unfair either to the father or his son. She thought of Ryan and Jason Swift. Maybe denying access could even be dangerous, because people could do stupid things when they didn't get what they wanted. She felt sure that whether his father was directly responsible for his death or not, if the boy had remained with his mother, his bones would not be lying on a lab table right now.

Her phone startled her back into the present moment. She fumbled in her pocket, found the phone, and answered it. "Brennan."

"Where will you be in a few hours, Bones?" It was Booth. He sounded keyed up. "I'm coming back to DC. We've had a breakthrough."

"What? What breakthrough?" She forced her thoughts back to the case. Booth had been continuing investigations in Pittsburgh and the surrounding area. Why was he coming back here?

"Ryan Swift just walked into the Bureau asking for me. He said he's heard about his son's death, and is volunteering to answer our questions."

* * *

_And so the plot thickens! Please let me know what you think._


	14. Chapter 14 reunion

_I still don't own any of the characters or situations - do you think that if I asked nicely someone would give them to me for Christmas?_

_I promise to play nicely with them (well, mostly!). I'm making no money out of this, or anything else for that matter, apart from time apart from what I should be doing._

* * *

The journey back to DC dragged interminably. There were several holdups, mainly due to the heavy traffic, and it was nearly five when Booth finally reached the Jeffersonian. He headed straight for the lab. As he walked in, he wondered what kind of reception he would get from Bones. He had been surprised by how open she had been during their stay in Pittsburgh, and felt it was a real danger that being back in her normal working environment had led her to have sudden doubts. 

Any doubt that he might have felt about the shift in their relationship was swept away as he saw her. She was standing on the raised lab platform, crouching down to peer closely at a set of bones laid out on the table. Brennan's face was the picture of concentration, and he stood admiring the way she screwed up her eyes slightly and tilted her head on one side as she worked.

He didn't realize how long he'd been just standing, staring at her, until he was roused out of his reverie by Angela greeting him cheerfully. He turned, startled, and she laughed at him. "Hi Booth, Brennan said you'd be here soon. Actually, she's been saying that for the past hour and a half."

"Hi Angela," he greeted her back. "How's life?"

"Oh you know, same as ever," she answered with a grin. "Hodgins is still driving us mad, Zack is still boy genius." Then she turned serious. "Hey, Booth, is everything okay between you and Brennan?"

"Yes, of course," he answered, caught off guard. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"I don't know - she just seems a little strange today."

Just then Bones spotted him. She put the bone carefully down on the table, then skipped down the steps to stand beside him. "Hey," she said, looking awkward.

"Hey." They stood just drinking in the sight of each other.

Angela cleared her throat. "Uh, are you sure you two are okay?"

They both turned to her at once. "Yes, we're fine," they chorused. She smirked at them.

"I'll leave you two alone then," she said, and turned and disappeared to her office before either of them could respond.

Booth turned to Brennan, who started laughing. "Maybe we'd better go into my office," she suggested.

They went to her office, and stood enjoying the relative privacy. "I missed you," Brennan said, looking out to check no one was outside, then kissing him lightly.

He smiled. "I was too busy working hard," he claimed, and then laughed as he saw the expression on her face. "I missed you too."

"Hey, I've got something to tell you," she said, suddenly looking serious. He tilted his head quizzically. "I had lunch with Rebecca today."

"With Rebecca? Parker's mom?" Booth frowned. "I didn't think you knew her."

"I didn't. Parker recognized me in Wong Foo's, and invited me to join them."

"Oh. How did you get on?" he asked cautiously.

"She's very nice, Booth. We had a good chat." Brennan's expression changed.

"What happened?" Booth was suddenly on guard.

"I - told her what I thought about her moving out of town with Parker."

He groaned, rubbing his chin with his fist. "I bet she didn't take that too well."

"She stormed off," Brennan admitted quietly. "They had already finished eating, though," she added as an afterthought.

Booth started pacing, trying to figure out the implications of this. "So you decide to meet my ex-girlfriend for lunch and lay into her for deciding prevent me from seeing my son? Wow, Bones, that's really going to help the situation."

"Sarcasm doesn't help, Booth. And I didn't lay into her. I merely explained to her how important a father is to his son, and how she should be considering Parker's needs as well as her own desires. Oh, and how she had no right to deprive her child of his father."

Booth sank into a chair and put his head in his hands. He groaned aloud. "Oh, Bones, what have you done?" His mind was racing. Should he ring Rebecca and apologize? Should he stay well away from her for a while? Could he afford time away from the case to deal with any of this?

"I haven't done anything," she protested sharply. "Don't blame me, Booth. All I did was try to talk a little sense into her."

This was bad. Things were about as bad as they could possibly get.

"Parker said you're taking him to the zoo on Sunday."

Or maybe they could get worse still. Today was Thursday. Booth groaned again, and looked up at Brennan. "What chance do you think there is of solving this case by then, Bones? If I miss that trip, then I can forget any chance of seeing Parker regularly."

"What about Ryan Swift?" Brennan reminded him.

"You're right, maybe that's what we need to crack the case." Booth brightened up at the thought that perhaps she was right. "Let's go see him. Are you coming?"

"Wait! I've just had a thought."

He stood up and looked at her impatiently, jangling his keys.

"As far as you're aware, Parker is with Rebecca," she said.

"What's your point?"

"If something were to happen, and Rebecca thought he was with you, but you thought he was with Rebecca, neither of you would report him missing, right? At least until you found out."

Booth stopped to think for a minute. "Maybe," he said slowly. "What are you getting at?"

"I'm just trying to think about why a child wouldn't be reported missing. Jason Swift was reported because his mom knew his dad had taken him, and she wanted him back. But what if in this other boy's case, each parent thought he was with the other one?"

"How does that help us?"

"Not at all, but it does offer one explanation as to why we haven't been able to identify him. If that's really the case, then I don't see how we can get any further, not on what we've got so far. If the hospital records aren't helping, and there's nothing on missing persons, then we've got little else. I need to get back out there, Booth. I need to check the burial site. There must be something we've missed, something that will prove the key to identifying this body, and maybe the key to finding his murderer."

Booth nodded. "I only came back to see what Ryan Swift has to say," he said. "I'll be heading back up there to continue investigations. You're right; the solution lies in Pittsburgh somewhere. But first, let's go and interview Swift. I want this case solved, Bones. I can't afford to be out of town for too long."

"Are you sure you want me along?"

Booth frowned at the note in her voice. She didn't sound too happy. Well, maybe she should have kept quiet instead of interfering between him and Rebecca. His conscience pricked at him for a minute, but he was too worried about the situation with Rebecca to be concerned right now about whether Brennan was feeling bad about the conversation. He fought back the thought that her outspokenness and honesty were part of what he loved about her.

Impatiently, he took out his keys and started tossing and catching them. "Come on, you can brief me on your side of things on the way."

She grabbed her coat and joined him, and they walked silently down to his car. Booth was vaguely aware of Angela watching them from inside her office doorway, but he ignored her. They needed to work on the case. Once that was solved, he could afford to spend time thinking about other things, like what to do about Rebecca and Parker. Right now, how Bones felt about his reaction to her talking to Rebecca was way down on his list of priorities.

Conversation in his car on the way to the bureau was purely business. She brought him up to date on the findings on the two victims, and the false trails they'd followed in trying to identify the second victim. They hit heavy traffic, and Booth found himself drumming his fingers on the wheel and whistling tunelessly between his teeth, both of which actions seemed to annoy Brennan intensely. Somehow, this wasn't the reunion he had been hoping for.

* * *

_As ever, reviews are more than welcome! This part and the next two have proved/are proving tricky - reviews might prove the inspiration I need to get the story moving over the hump and towards the final rush to the finish._  



	15. Chapter 15 the missing father

_They still don't belong to me. I'm still not making any money. I still have an essay to write in French. I'm still indulging in avoidance tactics.  
_

* * *

Brennan had been unsure how Booth would react when he heard of her meeting with Rebecca, but she knew she couldn't keep it a secret. She had seen too much hurt caused by secrets to ever want to keep something like that away from him. She had been sure he would understand why she had to talk to Rebecca, so it was a bit of a shock when he seemed to think she'd messed things up.

She briefed him on their findings as he drove, biting back irritation as he drummed his fingers and whistled tunelessly. She was not going to admit she was annoyed. "So the first boy's father just gave himself up to the FBI for questioning?" she said. "Where has he been all this time?"

Booth shook his head. "That's what we're about to find out," he reminded her, glancing sideways as he drove. "I'm guessing it was that drinking buddy of his that we interviewed. He said he hadn't heard from Ryan Swift, but my guess is they were still in touch somewhere along the line, because Swift knew enough to ask for me by name. I got a phone call from the Bureau saying he was here, so I told them to hold him until we got there."

"He's been waiting a while."

"It won't do him any harm to sweat it out for a bit. Makes him more ready to talk when we do get there. Imagination is a powerful tool, Bones." He sounded preoccupied.

She nodded. The number of conversations that had been through her imagination in the time between Booth phoning her and appearing at the lab were testament to that. She glanced across at him a couple of times, concerned that she didn't know what he was thinking, and irritated that he seemed to be resenting her conversation with Rebecca, but he ignored their glances and concentrated on his driving.

They found Ryan Swift sitting in the interrogation room, an agent standing outside to make sure he stayed. By the look of him, he was incapable of going anywhere anyway. Booth's comment about making him sweat had been right. Sweat stood out on his brow, which he ineffectually mopped every few minutes as he sat fidgeting in the bare room. He wore torn jeans and a dark tartan shirt, open at the collar to reveal a well-tanned neck. Booth and Brennan watched through the observation window for a minute before entering the main room.

"He doesn't look like a murderer," Brennan commented.

Booth looked at her. "How many of those we've caught have looked like murderers?" he asked irritably, and she grinned, refusing to bow to his bad temper.

"Not many," she admitted.

"Come on, let's get this over with." Booth brusquely led the way into the main interrogation room. Swift stood up nervously as the door opened, and looked as if he was about to bolt through the door. Booth made a point of slamming it loudly, and Swift jumped.

"So, you're Ryan Swift," Booth commented. Brennan saw the man nod very slightly. She recognized him from the photos Rachel Swift had shown them of Jason and his father.

"What happened to your son?" Booth demanded.

Swift looked near to tears. "She told me I couldn't see him any more." He was almost whispering. "She couldn't do that to me. She couldn't take my boy away from me."

"So you abducted him."

"I had every right to take him! I'm his father!"

"What happened?" Booth insisted.

"I took him from school, I was only going to take him for the evening, but when he got into the car, I knew I would be in trouble. I just started driving. It was stupid, I know. I just didn't think." Swift shifted uncomfortably on his chair, and reached for a glass of water. His hand was trembling, Brennan noticed.

"We got as far as the other side of Pittsburgh, and it was late. We saw this motel there, and I decided we'd stop for the night. I booked us in, we got settled in a room, then I went out for some food. Jason wanted to stay there, he kicked up a fuss when I tried to take him out. When I got back..." Swift broke off, and drank deeply from the water.

Booth scowled impatiently. "When you got back..." he prompted.

Swift drew a deep breath, and went on. "When I got back, Jason was gone. There was a note, from a guy named Mike, saying he was Rachel's boyfriend and had been following us. He said that he was taking Jason back to her. He said that if I tried to see him again, they'd have me put in jail for kidnap."

"Do you have this note?" Booth asked.

Swift shook his head. "It was two years ago," he pleaded. "I was scared. I destroyed the note, left the motel that night and came to DC. I got a job here, and I've been here ever since."

"You didn't check that the boy had gone with this boyfriend?" Booth questioned. "You didn't check with his mother that he got back safely?"

"No, I - I believed the note," Swift insisted. "I was scared. I didn't want to go to jail."

"And Jason? You weren't worried about him?"

Tears began to fall down Swift's cheeks. "He hated me," he confessed. "The whole time he was with me, he was telling me how useless I was, how he hated me, how he wanted to be with his mom." He broke down completely into sobs, and rested his head on his arms on the desk.

"Didn't it ever occur to you that it was your responsibility to make sure it was safe?" Booth was almost shouting at him now. "That note was a fake, he was abducted and killed, and it's only because you didn't have the guts to admit what you'd done, that the case wasn't investigated then!"

Swift lifted his head. "It wasn't my fault!" he shouted. "If she hadn't stopped me seeing him - if she hadn't poisoned his mind against me - if only she'd listened!"

Brennan could sense Booth becoming more and more agitated. "Mr. Swift," she interrupted. "Who did you see at the motel?"

"There was a woman at the desk," he answered. "She seemed nice. She didn't see Jason leave, I asked her. She saw no-one around."

They questioned him for a while longer, Booth becoming more and more worked up, but Swift had nothing more to add. He was adamant that he had genuinely believed Jason had returned to his mother, and that the reason he himself had disappeared was that he was scared of facing kidnap charges. Until Paul Perry had contacted him that morning, he had believed Jason to be safely back with his mother. Booth arranged for Swift to be held in custody on kidnap charges, then offered to drive Brennan back to the lab to pick up her car.

Brennan spent the whole journey back to the lab listening to Booth complaining about mothers who ruin their children's lives by depriving them of their fathers. "Hey, I'm on your side, Booth, remember?" she told him, but he was in no mood to listen. Brennan was worried. She and Booth had been on the verge of something; now she was frightened they were going to lose what they had, and all because Booth couldn't get over his personal problems to deal with the case.

"Booth, calm down. You're getting too involved."

He glared at her. "I'm perfectly capable of working this case without getting involved, Bones," he declared. "Will you stop telling me how to do my job? You've done enough interfering in my life today, thank you."

Bones shook her head. "Booth, will you stop to think straight for a minute? We're dealing with a case where a father was banned from seeing his son, and you're currently having access issues with your own son. It's preventing you from seeing clearly. You're too busy relating the Swift family's problems to your own, instead of focusing on the case."

Booth just shook his head and refused to answer. She could feel his anger flooding the car.

"What happens now?" she asked instead, trying to distract him. She was determined not to get out of the car until she had got through to him.

"Now?" Booth looked at her, irritated. "It's too late to head back to Pittsburgh tonight. I'm going to go for a run."

Brennan could feel him withdrawing from her. She had to reach him somehow. "Can I come?"

He shook his head. "I run fast, Bones, and I prefer to run alone."

"You'll be alone. I'll keep quiet, I promise. And I like running too. Please?"

She could see Booth really didn't want to give in, but she had a feeling that if she let Booth withdraw from her now, she would never get him back. It had been a big struggle to allow herself to open up to this relationship. She wasn't willing to let go that easily.

Booth gave in with bad grace. "Be at my place in an hour, Bones. If you're not there I'm going without you."

She got out of the car, and into her own, then watched after him as he drove off faster than he should.

* * *

_So that's the next part! The plot thickens. And reviews are welcome. Anyone figured out the murderer yet?_  



	16. Chapter 16 running

_Apologies for the delay. Just this French essay to get out of the way, then I can get back to writing again. Wish me luck!_

_I don't own Bones, sadly, apart from the ones in my body. I'm just playing with them for a while.  
_

* * *

When Brennan arrived, dressed in running shorts and a tee shirt, Booth was about to give up and go by himself. He knew Brennan was concerned about him, but right now he couldn't focus on that. All he could think of was his son, and of Jason Swift, who had trusted his parents to take care of him properly. His relationship to Bones was pushed out of sight, behind the case and the problem with his son. He wasn't ready to forgive Bones just yet, not until he knew that his relationship to Parker was safe. Deep down, he knew he was being unfair, but he couldn't see past the pain of possibly losing Parker. 

As she got out of the car and greeted him, he pulled his baseball cap firmly down on his head and set off at a steady pace, slightly faster than he would normally. Brennan kept pace with him, but said nothing, and he soon forgot she was even there. He pounded along, working out all the frustrations of the day. Soon he found his mind wandered to where it always did when he ran; it was just his body versus the world, and the sidewalk moved easily beneath his feet.

After a while he felt the tension starting to leave his body, and he eased the pace slightly. Beside him, Brennan slowed as well, and he became aware of her breathing heavily. She still had said nothing, and it was this realization, that she was ready to stay by his side, there to give him support but not to demand attention, that told him this relationship could work. For the first time since they had stepped over the line from working together to something more, he knew for sure that they had something really special. Sure, she had said some things that maybe upset Rebecca, but he trusted her; she would have said nothing that he himself didn't believe, and maybe, just maybe, Rebecca would take notice of what she had said and reconsider her decision.

Slowly the pace and rhythm broke through the barriers he had forced up in his mind, and he was ready to forgive and move on. He turned the block and headed towards home, but then turned off into the park that was a block away from his apartment. Brennan was struggling slightly by his side, he could tell from her breathing, but still she made no complaint, no attempt to slow his pace or ask for a break. He headed for the path around the park, and a hundred yards or so in, they approached a bench. Booth indicated it. "I'm just going to do a couple of circuits," he said, noting with pleasure that he could still talk easily. "Wait there if you like."

"You will come back for me?" There was only a small note of doubt in her voice. He leaned over and kissed her, and she smiled. "I'll take that as yes," she said.

He left her behind and lengthened his stride, enjoying the challenge of the slight rise in the path. The route took him alongside the edge of the children's play area; a few teenagers hung around, throwing a ball or just shouting at each other. They took no notice of him as he ran past them. He kept going, past the gardens, round the corner, down an incline that he felt in the back of his knees, then back along the playing field towards Bones. She was sitting back on the bench, staring into the distance. As she noticed him she turned towards him, and he could tell even in the half-dark that she was smiling at him. He waved, ran past, and did another circuit, but this time as he approached her he slowed down to a walk and then sat down beside her. He sat forward, his elbows on his knees, breathing heavily.

"Feeling better?"

He nodded. "It always helps, when I need to get things out of my system. You're pretty fit."

"I like to go running when I can." She smiled at him. "I find it helps, too."

They sat in silence for a moment, then when he was breathing normally again he turned to her. "What's the plan now?"

"I want to go back to Pittsburgh," she said. "We need to identify that second victim, and we've had no success so far. There must be something out there that we've missed, something that can solve this mystery for us."

Booth nodded. "I need to go talk to Charlie, and check out his side of the story. The officer who questioned him said he had no record of a boy and his father staying at the motel at around the time Jason disappeared."

"Want to share cars?" she offered tentatively.

"That would make sense." He hesitated. How far could he push this? He'd been pretty mean to her. Was she ready to forgive him? "If you were to stay at my place we could get an early start."

"I'm all sweaty, I need a shower." Bones pulled at her top, revealing an interesting glimpse of cleavage.

"I have a shower, you're welcome to use it." Booth paused. "It's a big one." He gave her the smile he knew she couldn't resist.

"Big enough for two by any chance?"

His heart leapt. She really seemed to be enjoying herself. "Uh huh."

"Well, that would save arguments about whose turn it is first, I suppose." Brennan grinned at him.

"So are we heading back to my place?"

"Race you back!" Brennan stood up and was halfway down the path before Booth had a chance to respond. His longer stride easily caught up, but she had had a longer break and easily kept up with him as they headed out of the park and along the pavement to Booth's apartment.

* * *

_I'm running in a race in a couple of weeks. Guess I'd better get into training instead of making my characters run for me ;-)  
_

_Please let me know what you think of the story. I love receiving your comments. _


	17. Chapter 17 back to Pittsburgh

_I attended a romantic/erotic writing workshop at the weekend. Apologies if it has influenced my writing too much ;-)_

_They still don't belong to me, although they're on my wishlists everywhere. I'm still not making any money from this, and I still want to thank MintExpresso for being a brilliant beta reader._

* * *

Brennan woke up and wondered for a moment where she was. Then she felt the warmth of another body next to her and remembered; she was in Booth's bed. She turned onto one side and lay looking at him in the near darkness. She could hear him breathing steadily. 

She touched him gently, experimentally, and he groaned and shifted slightly, then opened his eyes and looked back at her. He grinned with pure pleasure at the sight of her, and she felt her heart melt. She tried to force herself to ignore the way she felt, but she felt her body responding to his eyes and to the warmth radiating from his hand as he touched her face gently.

"What are we doing, Booth?" she asked, taking hold of his hand and moving it away from her cheek, holding it for a moment before releasing it.

His grin widened. "Do you need me to explain it?" he said mischievously, running his hand up her thigh instead.

"No, I mean - should we be doing this?" She dreaded hearing him say that no, they shouldn't, but at the same time felt compelled to examine their behavior carefully, to make sure that they were being sensible.

Booth rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow, regarding her seriously. "You're not having second thoughts, are you?"

"Not second thoughts exactly - just first thoughts. So far we've been listening to our bodies and not our minds."

"Nothing wrong with that," he answered, running his hands over her body in a way that made her shudder with pleasure.

She pushed his hand away reluctantly, refusing to be distracted. "Booth, please, let's just stop and think about this," she pleaded.

He turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling. "Seems to me we've been doing far too much thinking, and not enough feeling," he answered. Did he sound disappointed? "I've wanted you so much, Bones."

"But what if it doesn't work out?" she persisted. "How do we go on from there?"

"Who says it won't work out?" he countered, turning to face her again. "Bones, we have something special."

"But - I'm not sure I'm ready for that. I'm comfortable the way I am, Booth. I have my career, I have my work at the lab..."

"But it's not enough," he replied, and kissed her gently. "I know it's not, because it's not enough for me either. I want you. What we've got is too important to ignore."

She put her finger on his lips. "Please, Booth. This doesn't mean anything. It can't mean anything. Don't put too much at stake. Let's not go too far too soon. I need time to get used to this."

He nodded. "I'll give you time, Bones. When you're ready, I'll be here. Until then, let's just enjoy this for what it is, okay?" He leaned forward and kissed her gently. She responded for a moment, then pushed him away again.

"I'm just scared, Booth. Scared that it won't work, and we'll lose what we already have." She searched for the words to explain to him how part of her was desperate to join with him, while another part warned her about the danger of letting down her barriers and letting anyone inside. If you love someone, they leave you. Wasn't that the truth?

He took her in his arms and held her, smoothing her hair back from her face. She felt a tingling as he touched her skin. "We're not going to lose anything," he assured her. He kissed her tenderly, and she felt her resolve melt in his arms.

She snuggled up close to him, resting her head on his shoulder and enjoying the feel of his bare skin against hers, and the faint scent that she had come to associate with him. As he kissed the top of her head, she felt the prickling that said he needed a shave, and she ran her hand over his chin appreciatively. "What about the work? Can we still work together? I'd hate to lose that."

"As far as the FBI is concerned, they wouldn't be dancing with joy about it, but there's not much they can do, as long as it doesn't affect our work." He caught her hand and kissed it, nibbling gently at each finger in turn as if tasting her. She felt a melting inside at the tender touch of his tongue and teeth.

"Dr. Goodman wouldn't be able to do much either," she told him, trying to force her mind back to practicalities. "But I'm more concerned about us. Can we work together and have a relationship?"

Booth glanced over at the clock by the side of the bed, which displayed a steady 5:43. "We're both too good at our jobs to let any relationship get in the way of a case," he assured her. "And to prove it, I'm going to suggest we forego the pleasure of each other's company in bed and make an early start to Pittsburgh. I don't like leaving Ted Harvey in charge of the crime scene for any longer than necessary."

Reluctantly she nodded. She still felt uneasy about the change in their relationship, but neither did she feel able to stop it. For too long now she had been hyperaware of Booth's presence, feeling the air around her tingle as he entered the room, feeling the touch of his hand burning through her skin as he casually put his hand on her shoulder or in the small of her back. Now that they had crossed the line, she knew there was no going back without cutting herself off from him altogether, and that was something she felt incapable of. Could it deepen into something more serious? The thought scared her but excited her at the same time, and she felt like she was on a roller coaster and had no choice but to hold on for the ride, and hope she didn't get thrown off and hurt. At the end of the ride? Well, that was something she didn't have to face yet. Better to enjoy her time with Booth, and let the future worry about itself for now.

It hurt to get up and leave the warm bed, but she knew that unless they figured out a way to manage the relationship inside their work it would stand no chance of survival. Booth offered to share the shower again, but she pointed out with a laugh and a kiss that a shared shower would take far longer than separate ones, if the previous night were anything to go by. She had packed a fresh overnight bag before she had joined him for the run, as much in optimism as in forward planning, and an hour later they were on the road. Booth drove, while Brennan sipped at a coffee. She had offered to drive, but Booth had just shaken his head and told her she could drive on the way back. So she had given up and sat back to enjoy the journey, as dawn spread all round them. She buried herself in the files, reading relevant bits out to Booth, and searching her memory for anything they'd missed, anything that could give them a clue as to the identity of the second body.

They were only a few miles away from their destination when they were interrupted by Booth's phone ringing. He fished it out of his pocket and flipped it open. "Booth...You did? Hold on, Dr. Brennan is with me, I'll hand you over and she'll give you instructions." He held the phone out to Brennan. "Looks like you're right about there being more to find in Pittsburgh," he said dryly. "They've just found another body."

* * *

_And so it's back to the case, for a headlong rush to the finish. Hope you're still enjoying the story! Please let me know what you think.  
_  



	18. Chapter 18 progress

_I still don't own them, and I'm still getting nothing from this except all your wonderfully motivating reviews and the pleasure of writing. Thanks again to MintExpresso for being a brilliant beta reader.  
_

_It's back to the case with a vengeance, as we finally start making some progress on the case.

* * *

_ Brennan had her hair scraped back into a ponytail. She was wearing her dark blue jumpsuit, the logo of the Jeffersonian institute standing out on the left breast. Her dark Wellingtons were caked with mud, and her latex gloves smudged with a mixture of mud and bodily remains. There was a mark on her left cheek where she had brushed hair away from her face.

She looked beautiful.

Booth gave her one last glance over his shoulder as he headed reluctantly back to his SUV. He forced himself to consider the case. His first stop was at the station, to talk to Ted Harvey, who proved to be his usual belligerent self. "When can work recommence?" was his first question.

Booth ignored that. "Have your men finished a fingertip search of the area?" he demanded.

Harvey reluctantly confirmed that this was the case. "They found nothing," he said. "I told you there was nothing to find."

"Apart from another body," Booth pointed out. Harvey turned away, and Booth strode after him, grabbing him by the arm. "I need to know what's going on here."

Harvey glared at him. "Nothing is going on."

"Bullshit. You're constantly in the way of this investigation. If it had been down to you we'd never have found this third body. You'd have had houses built by now, and I have to ask why."

Harvey tried to shake Booth's hand off, but he had too firm a grip. "All right," Harvey said when it was apparent Booth would not let him go without an answer. He took Booth to an interrogation room, and perched on the edge of the desk.

Booth stood silently, hands on his hips, waiting for Harvey to speak. The investigator cleared his throat, looking extremely uncomfortable. "The guy who owns the construction company," he said at last. "He's a guy called Jack Rolland. I'm married to his sister."

Things were beginning to hint at sense. Booth remembered how Harvey and the guy at the building site had been arguing fiercely. He had had the feeling they knew each other, but he hadn't guessed at how well.

"So how does that make any difference?" he demanded.

Harvey looked down at his fingers, pulled nervously at his cuff. "I owe a lot of money. A lot of money. Rolland promised a payment if I could speed things up for him. If I don't – my wife will leave me. I can't handle it. I'm getting pressure on both sides. But I honestly thought there was nothing to find. Otherwise I wouldn't..." his voice trailed away. He stared down at his feet, refusing to meet Booth's eyes.

Booth shook his head in disgust. "I'm going to speak to your superior," he said, and walked out.

It took an hour for him to deal with the mess Harvey had created. The investigator was suspended pending investigation, and Booth found himself interviewing Jack Rolland, who denied all knowledge of the bodies on the site and insisted that he just wanted to get on with the building.

Eventually Booth arrived at the motel to question Charlie, whom he found under the hood of his car. "Darn thing drinks oil," Charlie snorted in disgust. "What can I do for you?"

He turned to see Booth standing there, and his expression immediately changed. "Agent Booth," he said formally. "What can I do for you?"

"I've come to ask you some more questions about these bodies found at the building site down the road," Booth told him. He waved a photo of Jason and his father under the motel owner's nose. "I've spoken to the father of one of the boys. He said they were staying here the night his son disappeared."

Charlie shook his head. "That's impossible, Agent Booth," he said. "I checked my records. There's no indication that a boy and his father stayed here at that time."

"I'd like to see the books myself," Booth said firmly, not trusting the previous officer to have been very thorough in his investigations.

Charlie argued with him heatedly, but eventually took Booth to his office and fished under the desk for his register. He flicked the pages through, back to the date when the Swifts were supposed to have stayed at the motel. As he had said, there was no record of a man and boy staying on or around the date in question. Booth peered more closely at the page. "Is this whiteout?" he asked.

Charlie looked at the page. "I don't think so," he said, unconvincingly.

"I'm taking this book in," Booth said. "I'll have this analyzed, find out what was written underneath. Who was working here at that time?"

Charlie thought for a moment. "That would have been Bessie," he said slowly. "She helped me out for a couple of months, before she and her family moved."

Charlie could not give Booth further details, insisting that Bessie had left no forwarding address, and in the end he gave up for the moment and left, taking the register with him. He headed back to the station to drop the book off for the forensics department, then went to the morgue where Bones was working with the body she had been recovering, anxious to see her again and to have a chance to discuss the case and find out what she had discovered.

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_Please let me know what you think so far - reviews always welcomed!_  



	19. Chapter 19 labwork

_I have so many parts to read, and I haven't done much writing myself! Note to self: don't give up the day job to concentrate on writing, because you only write well against a very short deadline and/or lots of other pressures._

_Here's the next part, and now colds etc are over, and in knowledge of the fact I'm going away in a couple of weeks, I'll try to update this one more often and get it out of the way so I can move on to the next story._

* * *

Brennan worked on the new body for most of the day, in one way or another. After carefully recovering it, bone by bone, from the grave in which it lay a few yards away from the site of the other bodies, she had it transported to the city morgue where she could do a preliminary look. Laying it out on a lab table, she had studied the decaying body very carefully, looking for signs of damage. It was badly decomposed, but showed little sign of injury other than a skull fracture. 

She was unable to do much more herself, and after having a full set of X-rays taken, she had the remains shipped back to the lab for a more thorough investigation. Zack would be able to remove the remaining flesh from the bones and do a full study; her student was starting to prove his considerable ability in such matters. Hodgins would be able to analyze the soil samples she had carefully preserved and give an accurate time of death. Angela would do her usual task of working with the skull and dental records to make an identification. DNA samples would be run, but would only be useful if a potential match could be found. Either way, the squints at the Jeffersonian could all do their part to investigate the body itself, while she and Booth remained on scene for local enquiries.

One of the regular morgue workers had brought her a sandwich at around lunchtime, then scurried away quickly, apparently in awe of her concentration on her work, but by the time Booth returned and found her studying her notes she was starting to feel hungry. She looked up as he walked into the small office she had borrowed, and he smiled at her cheerily. She stood up and walked round the desk, leaning against it, as he moved forward to kiss her. She wrapped her arms round his neck, marveling at how good it was to see him again after just a few hours apart. How could she have imagined that they could go on just as partners?

"Worked out whodunit yet?" He broke away from her at last and lounged comfortably in the chair in front of her desk, stretching his legs out in front of him.

She shook her head. "I know how he was killed though, and when."

She picked up an X-ray that she had been studying and showed him, holding it up against the window. "He died of a head injury. Here, you can see the line of the blow. He was hit with a wooden implement. Splinters were found in the surrounding flesh."

"Baseball bat?" Booth peered closely at the fracture line.

"No, it had a sharp, square edge." Brennan looked around her. "Something like a chair leg, or table leg. Hodgins should be able to give us more details about the wood, and Zack should be able to give us a better idea of the size of weapon. I estimate he's been dead around six months, which would put his death at around the same time as the second boy. That's only approximate, of course. We need the full lab reports to be precise. The body reached them an hour ago, so they're working on it right now."

"Identity?"

"Not yet. They've taken DNA samples, and we're just waiting for the results. The team can do all the standard identification procedures in the lab. All we can do now is wait."

Booth brought her up to date with his investigations and the progress he had made.

"So that explains why Harvey has been so inefficient," she commented. "He's just trying to keep his wife and brother in law happy."

"Apparently he's a long way into debt," Booth agreed. "His only chance was to play along with his brother in law and smooth through the building work as quickly as possible."

"So he's not connected with the crimes themselves," Brennan mused thoughtfully.

"It wouldn't appear so, but of course there's the chance the brother in law is involved," Booth pointed out. "He sure seems in a hurry to get those houses built."

"That could be for purely financial reasons," she said.

"Or it could be because he wants those bodies buried under buildings as soon as possible."

"Unlikely. If it weren't for the building works, the bodies would not have been found."

Booth conceded with a nod and a smile. "So what happens now?"

"Now? It's getting late. I vote we sort out somewhere to stay the night, then get some food. I'm starving."

"Back to the motel?" Booth suggested. "It's the closest place to where the bodies were found."

Brennan agreed. "I'd like to take another close look around tomorrow," she answered. "There might be more to find. I was just focused on recovering the body today, but I want to take a look at the surrounding area in the morning."

They headed for Booth's car and drove back to the motel, but there they hit problems. "What do you mean, no?" Booth demanded.

Charlie shook his head. His previous friendly manner had disappeared completely, leaving him cold and hostile. "We have no available rooms," he repeated.

"Come on, Charlie, you've got plenty of empty rooms," Brennan said, but Charlie refused to budge.

"They're about to be renovated," he insisted. "There is no room available for either of you. I suggest you try the hotel, about three miles down the road."

Booth looked as though he was about to lose his temper with the motel owner, but Brennan put her hand on his arm. "It's all right, Booth," she soothed him. "We'll go to the hotel. It's no big deal."

Booth scowled. "He's got plenty of room," he complained. "He just doesn't want the law around him."

"People get uncomfortable around law enforcers, especially if they've been questioned," Brennan said. "Anthropologists have theorized..."

Booth interrupted her by kissing her, and she wriggled in protest, before surrendering to the steady pressure of his lips. By the time they pulled apart they had both forgotten momentarily what they had been doing. Charlie had disappeared into the back office, and they stood alone at the counter. Booth grumbled as they went back out, but Brennan pacified him by suggesting they head to the diner for a meal first. "I'm too hungry to go any further," she complained, and Booth nodded his agreement.

"The diner it is then," he said, and they walked round the corner, deliberately leaving their car on the parking lot in front of the motel office.

* * *

_Reviews always welcome! This story is trying to set a balance between fluff and case, which at times is difficult to do._

_I'm also conscious of just focusing on Booth and Brennan as characters. My next story will try involving all the squints. _


	20. Chapter 20 dinner

_It looks like the rest of this story will be unbeta'd, so apologies for any errors. And before anyone asks, yes I'm British, so if anything sounds slightly odd, it's probably British!_

_I'll be updating this regularly now, as I'm out of town next weekend and I want to get this finished before I go. _

* * *

Booth was hungry. He'd been running from place to place all day without making much progress, and he was starting to feel frustrated. Still, at least he had Bones to keep him company over dinner. He held the door open for her as they entered the diner. The place was nearly empty, just a couple whispering to each other and holding hands under the table at one end, and what looked like a father and son at the other. Booth looked at the boy, who must have been around seven or eight, and wondered wistfully if he would make it home in time to take Parker out on the Sunday as planned. He said as much to Brennan. 

"Well, it's Friday evening," she pointed out. "If we can figure out who's responsible and go and arrest him tomorrow, you might just make it in time, but to be honest, I think probability of such a fast success rate is slim."

"Thanks, Bones, you really make me feel better," Booth scowled, sitting at an empty table roughly in the middle of the room. From where he sat he could watch the boy tucking into fries and chatting to his father. He thought again about Rebecca, and what he could do. He could think of very little he hadn't already tried over the years. Rebecca knew his threats to take her to court were hollow; they both knew that he could not put Parker through the pain of his parents fighting over him. But was she too aware of this? Maybe he should fight a little harder, show Parker he was worth fighting for.

He was brought back to the present by a kick under the table. "Ow!" He looked up to see Bones grinning at him. She had sat down opposite, placing her laptop bag on the spare seat beside her, and was watching him with amusement.

"Want to order some food before you get lost in your thoughts?" she suggested.

Booth noticed that Sally the waitress was hovering beside him, and apologized. He ordered steak and fries, thinking of the meal the boy was tucking into so eagerly, while Brennan ordered a chicken and pasta dish. By unspoken agreement, they never discussed cases while waiting for food, so they talked about nothing in particular until their meals arrived. Brennan looked over at his plate. "Hey, nice fries." She reached over and helped herself.

"Hey, that's my food! Eat your own!" In vain, Booth tried to protect his food. In the end, he gave up and went for the offensive instead, taking a forkful of Brennan's pasta. She immediately scowled at him and withdrew to move her plate out of reach, and he laughed.

"See, Bones, if you give it, you've gotta be able to take it," he said smugly.

"Okay," she said, reaching for another couple of fries. But this time he was too fast.

Eventually they settled down to eat their own meals, still laughing. Booth was vaguely aware that the boy had finished eating and had started playing with a toy car on the table, driving it in and out of the plates. Tiring of the small space, he fetched a small bouncy ball out of his pocket and started rolling it, then throwing it gently and catching it. Suddenly he missed it, and the ball caught the edge of the table, bounced off at a strange angle, and bounced again on the floor. It rolled along, reaching just to Booth's feet.

The boy approached them timidly, and Booth smiled at him, trying to reassure him. "Here you go," he said, bending down and picking up the ball. He held it out to the boy, whose eyes were wide. Booth noticed that his jacket had swung open, revealing the gun he wore in a holster on his left hip.

The boy shook his head, looking scared, then ran back to his dad. "Dad, Dad, that man's got a gun!" he said, pointing over his shoulder back at Booth.

Booth exchanged glances with Brennan, who looked amused, then stood up and walked over to where the man was looking very nervous and was starting to gather up the few things remaining on the table ready for a hasty departure.

"It's all right, sir, I've got a badge to go with it," Booth reassured him, pulling his FBI badge off his belt to show it. "I'm an FBI officer." If anything, the father looked even more nervous. Booth held out the ball for the boy, who reluctantly took it, then looked at his dad.

His dad nodded, avoiding his eyes. "Come on, Mikey," he said curtly. "We've got to go."

"Dad, he's a real cop!" said Mikey, enthralled by the badge.

"Yes, now come on."

Dragging his heels, the small boy was pushed out of the diner in front of his father, who gave a last uneasy look over his shoulder as he left.

A little hurt, Booth went back to his seat. Brennan met his look with a smile of sympathy. "Looks like no-one wants to be around a cop tonight," she remarked.

Booth shook his head. "I'm starting to get a complex," he complained. "I'm the good guy. They shouldn't be scared of me."

"Maybe they've got a guilty conscience," Brennan suggested jokingly.

Booth shook his head. "Let's just eat, then head for the hotel," he said. "I want to go through everything again. I'm sure we're missing something."

"Maybe the others have found something," Brennan said. "If they haven't called by the time we've finished eating I'll give them a call, get a progress report."

Booth nodded glumly, and they finished their meal in silence, both deep in thought. Brennan had just taken her phone out of her pocket to phone the lab, when it started ringing. "That was good timing," she commented, answering it. She listened intently, asked a few questions, then hung up and looked at Booth. "We have an identity on the third body," she said. "And the second one too."

* * *

_Hope you're still enjoying the story! You know how to let me know your thoughts, don't you?_  



	21. Chapter 21 identifications

_I still don't own them, and I'm still not making any money out of this._

_You might notice the chapters are getting slightly shorter as we need to change viewpoint more often, heading to the climax. To make up for this, I should be able to update more regularly. _

_I've created a new forum, called Bones Readers, because while readers can give comments to writers, there's no way for readers to contact other readers easily. I thought it might be useful to pose challenges, as well. Please feel free to make use of it!

* * *

_  
"Well come on then, spill the beans," Booth said impatiently.

Brennan looked at him for a moment, confused, then nodded and reached for her case. She pulled her laptop out and set it up on the table in front of her. Booth moved round the other side of the table to sit next to her and look at the screen. He sat leaning forward, elbows resting on the table. She glanced round the room. By now, a couple of other diners were seated in the corners, and Sally was kept busy moving from one end to the other and back again, giving no more than a cursory glance to the two who had finished eating and were lingering over a cup of coffee and looking at a computer. Just in case, Brennan angled the screen so that no-one would be able to see it easily from a distance.

"The DNA on the third victim, the adult male, came up with a match on the NCIC database." Brennan logged on to her email and picked up a message with an attachment. She opened the attachment, to show the file on the third victim, with photo and Angela's sketch side by side.

Booth looked closely at the screen. "Angela did a good job, as usual," he commented.

Brennan nodded her agreement. "The third victim has a criminal record, with convictions for armed robbery. His name was Matt Garrison, aged 35. Murder weapon was a piece of pine with a square edge, similar to a table leg, or chair leg. He was hit from just behind him, so he probably didn't see the blow coming. His assailant was right-handed."

"Progress at last." Booth sat back in his chair and stretched. "Now all we have to do is figure out what he and the other two victims had in common. Otherwise he doesn't seem to fit. He's adult, they were kids. He was struck on the head, they were suffocated."

"The answer to that may be here." Brennan flicked through the file onscreen, skim-reading the reports sent to her from her team. Booth leaned against her slightly, looking forward at the screen. She glanced at him with amusement, realising he was trying to make sense of the report.

He gave up and sat back, resting his arm on the back of her seat. "Okay, I give up. Do tell."

"The DNA sample also matched that of the second victim."

"The unidentified boy?" Booth leaned forward again, suddenly alert, and now his arm was resting across her shoulders. Brennan jumped at the touch, then leaned in closer to him, so that their thighs were touching.

"That is correct." Brennan nodded with satisfaction. "It would appear that they are very closely related."

"I don't suppose there's a report of any close family in his file? Like, say, a son?" Booth sounded hopeful, and Brennan was glad to be able to confirm his guess.

"He had one son, Wayne. Aged eight. Wayne lived with his mother, Nancy Stewart. Garrison would look in on them when he wasn't inside. There were one or two reports that he was hurting the boy, but they moved around so much no one department could follow through properly."

"So where's Nancy Stewart now?" Booth wondered.

Brennan placed one hand on Booth's knee and caressed it absently, while scrolling the screen with the other and reading intently. "Garrison was in jail until a year ago. Just over six months ago his wife was found murdered and his son was missing, presumed murdered as well. Garrison disappeared, and the police have been looking for him ever since."

"So we need to figure out the connection, if there is one." Booth pondered the situation. "It's a pretty big coincidence if the three deaths are unconnected. We have two boys killed in the same way, which gives a connection between those deaths, and a father and son killed at around the same time, which connects those deaths. It looks pretty likely, then, that all three were killed for the same reason. But why? What's the connection between the three of them? We're missing something."

Brennan scowled and pushed her hair back behind her ears. Having Booth sitting so close made it harder to concentrate. On the other hand, knowing that she no longer had to agonise over whether they'd ever have more than a working relationship made things slightly easier. She leaned into his arm, and twisted her head to look at him. "What were they all doing around this area?" she asked.

"Good question." Booth thought for a moment. "Where was the wife killed?"

She sat back up and consulted the file again. "Cleveland. They thought Garrison was heading towards DC."

"And this place is on the way."

Brennan pictured a map in her head, and nodded. "And Jason and Ryan Swift were travelling through here on the way to DC when Jason got taken."

"And when he got taken, Ryan just gave up and left."

She could hear the bitterness in his voice, and she squeezed his leg affectionately. "But Matt Garrison isn't the kind of guy to turn tail and run if his son got taken, he'd go after him." Just like Booth would.

"And maybe get knocked on his head for his trouble."

They looked at each other triumphantly.

"The only question now," Booth said, bringing them both back down to earth, "is who killed them?"

* * *

_Please let me know what you think._


	22. Chapter 22 information

_I still don't own them, although I've asked nicely lots of times. And I'm still not making any money out of this._

_I'm doing a lot more writing again suddenly. What do you know - must be another assignment due ;-)_

* * *

**Chapter 22 **

Booth leant back in his chair, pulling Brennan back with him and squeezing her shoulders gently. He looked at her, smoothing her hair back from her face. "Any suggestions?"

"That depends on whether it was someone who knew them or whether they just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It looks increasingly like they were just unlucky, so it has to be someone they met on their way through the place." She stuck out her bottom lip in the way that made Booth melt. He imagined himself nibbling at that lip, and then...

He hurriedly pulled his thoughts back to the case. Work now, play later. He grinned to himself at that thought. "We know that Ryan and Jason Swift stayed at the motel. We need to check whether Matt and Wayne Garrison also stayed there." He looked at his watch. "Damn. Far too late to check up in the motel register tonight. I'll have to give the local lab a ring in the morning."

"They might have used some other local resources," Brennan said thoughtfully.

He glanced at her. "What are you thinking?"

She said nothing, but worked busily on her laptop for a few minutes. Sally the waitress came up to them. "Could I get either of you folks more coffee?"

Brennan looked up at her, and angled her computer round. "Sally, could you do something for us please? Could you take a look at these photos, see if you've seen any of these people before?"

Booth peered over her shoulder. She had taken the photos on file of the three victims plus Ryan Swift, and arranged them in a collage onscreen.

Sally studied the faces closely for a minute or two, then nodded, as if satisfied.

"Yes, I've seen all of them, I think. Those – it was a long time ago." She indicated the Swifts. "I remember the kid ran all round the place, was really rude, and his dad just sat there and let him do it."

She touched the faces of Matt and Wayne Garrison. "Those I've seen more recently, a few months ago." She nodded, as if satisfied. "The man was real mean to the boy, I saw. Poor kid was scared of him. Didn't dare do anything, he was so scared of being told off. I thought at the time how different he was to that other kid."

"Where were they staying?" Booth asked her, feeling a strange excitement in the pit of his stomach. All his nerves were tingling, telling him that his could be the breakthrough they needed.

"At the motel, Charlie's place, just overnight I think. I remember feeling sorry for Charlie, with the kids around."

"Why?" Brennan asked the question before Booth could get it out.

"Well, Charlie misses his own boy so much still."

Booth could feel Brennan stiffen beside him. "Why does he miss him?"

"Well," Sally sank down in the seat opposite the pair, and leant forward as if imparting a big secret. "Charlie got divorced around three years ago, and his wife wouldn't let him see his son. It darn near broke his heart."

Now it was Booth's turn to stiffen. "Do you know why she stopped him seeing his son?" he asked.

Sally shrugged. "I'm not sure. Some legal stuff about an injunction, and she said she was scared Charlie would hurt him. That's all nonsense, though. Charlie wouldn't hurt a fly. Mind, he was pretty mad when the lawyer told him he had to stay away."

Booth frowned. Something was nagging at him, something he'd forgotten. He thought back to the conversations he'd had with Charlie, and remembered the photo of a young boy on the wall in the motel office. "He told me he took his son on holiday every year," he said.

Sally looked surprised. "As far as I know, Charlie hasn't seen the boy for over two years," she assured him.

Booth looked at Brennan, and he saw in her eyes the same doubts he felt. "I think our friend Charlie needs to answer a few more questions," he said.

"So what's going on?" Sally looked from one to the other, a quizzical smile on her face.

Booth showed her his badge. "We're here to investigate the bodies found on the building site," he explained.

Sally's face grew rounder with shock. "Bodies? Here? But nothing like that happens here! I wondered why there were so many police cars on the site the past few days."

Brennan leant forward. "You haven't heard any rumours about what happened?" she questioned.

Sally shook her head. "Not a word."

"Okay, Sally, you've been a great help," Booth told her, and the waitress looked disappointed, but left the table and hurried over to where a man was impatiently waving his hand at her.

Brennan absently closed down the files on her laptop and shut the screen down. "Charlie seemed to know exactly why we're here," she said thoughtfully. "He made a few comments about what a tragedy, and he seemed to know that bodies were found."

Booth stood up. "I really want to talk to Charlie," he said firmly.

Sally came back to them. "Are you going back to the motel?" she asked.

Booth nodded, and Sally held out her hand. In it was a small blue car. "Could you take that with you please?" she said. "It belongs to the boy and his father who were in here earlier, they left it on the table. They're staying at the motel tonight then moving on tomorrow, and I'd hate the boy to be upset he lost his car. He seemed miserable anyway, most of the time they were here."

Brennan looked at Booth, whose gut was now definitely doing a merry dance of delight. He held out his hand and took the car. "I'll see he gets it," he assured her grimly.

Brennan finished packing her laptop back into its bag and stood up. "Let's go," she said. "The motel and Charlie seem to be pretty important right now."

Sally looked like she did not understand. "Charlie puts a lot of work into that motel," she told them. "He had the whole place renovated, just six months ago. New carpets, new furnishings, everything. It's all he has, since his wife left."

"But he said he's having it renovated now," Booth said in surprise.

"Maybe he just didn't want us there," said Brennan slowly. "Maybe it's more than being upset because you questioned him and took his book away."

"What color was the carpet before it was renovated?" Booth asked, thinking of the green carpet in the room he had occupied.

"Blue," Sally answered without hesitation. "I really liked the blue, it was a rich color, but Charlie said it looked too cold, and had them all replaced with green."

The facts were beginning to fall into place. Booth thought about the scene in the diner earlier, when the boy and his father had hurried away from them, despite his reassurances. "That father – he seemed really nervous about me being a cop," he reminded Brennan. "I really think the motel should be our next port of call."

They thanked Sally and left, almost breaking into a jog on the way back to the motel.

* * *

_Please let me know what you think so far. Have you figured out the bad guy? Come on, it's easy now ;-)  
_  



	23. Chapter 23 missing child

_You know the standard disclaimer, I don't have to say it again, do I? Just check previous chapters - nothing's changed._

_We're coming to the climax on this one, so expect regular updates for a while.

* * *

_**  
23 missing child**

Brennan found herself almost struggling to keep up with Booth's long strides as they hurried back to the motel. Most of the building was in darkness, only one room ablaze with light, the blinds drawn. The parking lot was empty but for two cars; Booth's and a sedan that stood in front of the lit up room.

Booth tried the door of the office building, but it was locked, the lights off. Rattling the door, banging on it and shouting produced no effect. Booth walked round the back of the building and then rejoined Brennan at the car. "His car's gone," he said briefly. "He was working on it earlier round the back."

A voice called to them from the one motel room that had lights on: it was the father they had seen earlier in the diner. He approached them, looking extremely nervous. "Have you seen my son?" he asked.

Booth shook his head, suddenly very attentive. "Is he missing?" he asked, with a concerned look at Brennan.

The man held out a piece of paper. "I found this," he said.

Brennan took the note and held it carefully by the very edge, angling it so that she and Booth could both read it in the light streaming from the open door.

**I've taken the boy back to his mother. That's where he belongs, with us, not with you. If you come anywhere near us again we'll have you put in jail for kidnap. **

Brennan looked up at Booth, shocked. Booth looked at the man. "So your point is?" he asked. Brennan felt confused at first, but realised Booth was checking his facts before jumping to conclusions, and she nodded approvingly.

The man hesitated, then obviously decided he had to speak out. "My ex-wife has no boyfriend. She's too busy getting out of her head on vodka all the time. I doubt she's even realised he's gone. Anyway, I can't just leave it like that. I – I only took him to take proper care of him. She could never do that. I have to know he's safe."

"Of course you do," Brennan soothed, while watching Booth carefully. She knew what must have happened, and she could see from Booth's face that he had too. It was happening all over again, but this time they were around to change the ending. She hoped.

"I'm going to have a look around," Booth told her. "You get the police, tell them what's happened. The guy who took over from Harvey is called Robert Ford. Tell him what we suspect, tell him to take it quietly, we don't want to scare Charlie off."

"What are you going to do?" asked Brennan, suddenly concerned that he was going to walk into danger.

"I'm just going to take a look around."

"I'll come with you."

"No." Booth held both her arms and forced her to look at him. "It's important that you get hold of Ford. We can't afford to waste time on this. It's pretty certain neither Charlie or the boy are around, but I need to check the rest of the place anyway, just in case. You keep calling, please, and stay here with..." He looked over at the man.

"Paul Chymes," the man answered, looking anxious. "My boy – his name is Mikey."

Booth nodded. "Okay. Mr Chymes, I need you to stay here with Bones – with Dr. Brennan, and tell her everything you know, okay? I'm just going to have a look round, and then I'll be back. We're going to do everything we can to get Mikey back safe and sound."

"Thank you." The man looked grateful, as if Booth had already returned his son to him. Brennan just hoped Booth would be able to keep that promise.

Booth withdrew his gun from his holster and held it ready in his hand, and Brennan watched him kick down the door to the office, check round it and come out with a handful of keys to the motel rooms. He nodded at her, and unlocked the next door room. Brennan watched him disappear inside and turn the lights on. Then she turned to Chymes and took him back into his room.

The room was similar to the others she'd been in, a dirty green carpet on which stood a cheap pine bed and dressing table. A wooden chair nearby stood piled with clothes and towels. The door to the bathroom was ajar, the light showing around the edges of the door. She checked in there just in case, although she knew it was futile. In the far corner of the main room was a cupboard, with a TV standing on top of it still showing a kids' cartoon show. Chymes indicated it with a vague wave of his faintly trembling hand. "Mikey was watching TV," he explained unnecessarily. "He wanted his bag of toys from the car and I left him to get it. When he didn't come back in I went to look and found the keys in the lock and no sign of him."

"Did you see anyone? Hear anyone?" Brennan asked, ignoring the sound of the TV while listening intently for the sound of Booth moving from room to room.

"No. But he has the TV on rather loud." Chymes crossed the room and turned the volume down as he spoke. He thought for a moment, then hit the off switch.

"Who did you speak to in the office when you checked in?"

"A guy who said his name was Charlie. Very cheerful guy. Seemed to take a shine to Mikey." Chymes' face suddenly changed. "Is that who you think has him? Your boyfriend said about not scaring Charlie off."

Brennan opened her mouth to give the usual correction, but then remembered that yes, Booth could at this point be described as her boyfriend. She gave a small smile to herself. Maybe once this was all over they could enjoy their new relationship. She just nodded. "We have reason to believe that Charlie, the motel owner, has kidnapped your son," she said quietly. She did not go into any more detail. The fact that Charlie was also suspected of killing two other boys and a man could not help his frame of mind at the moment, and she needed him to keep calm and cooperative.

She took her phone out of her pocket and called the local station. "We need to get the local police in on this," she said, as she waited for the phone to connect. "We need to locate Charlie and get to him before – as soon as we can." She listened intently to the phone, then swore and hung up. "It's engaged."

Booth stuck his head round the door. "I'm just going to check those sheds behind the motel," he said. "Won't be long."

She nodded, and waved a hand at him, as she hit the redial button on her phone. "Come on, pick up," she muttered, as the phone rang and rang at the other end. Beside her, Paul Chymes started to pace up and down the room, chewing on his fingernails.

* * *

_Please let me know what you think! This is my first time trying to write a mystery/thriller and combining it with romance, so I'd appreciate your views._  



	24. Chapter 24 searching

_Still don't own them, still noticeable lack of money..._

_One more part before I disappear for a week._

* * *

Booth looked in all the empty motel rooms, but found nothing unusual, and no sign of either Charlie or Mikey. He was worried. He had a feeling time was extremely short, and he could not bear the thought that they might be too late. He stood for a moment, thinking, then remembered that behind the office he had seen what looked like a large old garage. He stuck his head in the room where Brennan was standing with the boy's father, with a mobile phone pressed to her ear. She drummed the fingers of her other hand impatiently on the back of the chair next to her, then removed the phone and stared at it in disgust. "It's engaged." 

"I'm just going to check those sheds behind the motel," Booth said. "Won't be long."

Brennan nodded and waved a hand vaguely at him, before hitting the redial button on her phone. Booth had a nasty suspicion that any help she managed to raise would be too little, too late.

He fetched a flashlight from his car, and headed round the back of the rooms. The garage was where he remembered it. On closer inspection, the front doors had not been opened for years, but around the far side was a door that looked like it was in regular use, a shiny padlock sealing the hasp fastening closed. The building was fairly sturdy, with a couple of windows high up along one side, but no other windows, and nowhere to see in without forcing the lock. There was a leanto shed at the back of it, but Booth dismissed that as too small to be worth searching - at least not until he had checked out the garage.

Booth bent to inspect the padlock more closely. The lock itself was strong and sturdy, but the bracket that held it to the door was rusty and worn, and the wood around it split and rotten. It did not take much force to break the catch and open the door, leaving the padlock still securely fastened. He adjusted his hand on his gun, and crept carefully through the door, listening alertly for any sound. The door had been locked on the outside, which ruled out Charlie being inside, but he still needed to be cautious.

He stood and listened carefully for several moments, allowing his body to adjust properly to the light level, while he shone the flashlight around. There were piles of junk everywhere inside, and there was a partition not far inside, dividing the door area from the main area of the garage. As Booth rounded the corner of the partition, then passed the bits of old broken furniture and rolls of carpet, and the hundred and one other bits of junk that any old shed or garage seems to accumulate without effort, he became aware that a light was gleaming very faintly at the far end. He could hear nothing at first, but as he crept closer he began to pick out the soft sound of sobbing. A wardrobe stood between him and the lit area, and he stood with his back to the wardrobe for a few minutes, before carefully easing his head around the corner to have a look.

In the far corner, sitting on a pile of blankets and three or four blue cushions, was the boy from the diner. From his position, his hands were bound tightly behind his back, and Booth could see his ankles were tied together. He was still wearing the same red tee shirt and blue jeans that he had been wearing when Booth saw him last, but he now wore a black cloth tied tightly around his mouth to stop him calling for help. His eyes were swollen with crying, streaks down his face where dirt had been washed clear by tears. A very heavy wooden chair was just behind him, and Booth guessed that he was tied to it, to stop him trying to escape the shed. On a small side table nearby a small gaslamp burnt unsteadily, flickering as if the gas was about to run out. As it gave a particularly large flicker, Booth saw Mikey's eyes move towards it in fear, and Booth's heart went out to the boy, so alone and scared, and for a moment his imagination played tricks on him, and he saw Parker lying there instead.

Booth moved all the way round the wardrobe towards the boy, and Booth saw Mikey's eyes widen as he saw him. "It's okay," he soothed, slipping his gun back in its holster and kneeling down beside him. "I'm here to get you out of here, just let me look at those knots."

He reached forward to loosen the gag, feeling grateful that at least Charlie had been considerate enough to leave the boy with the dim light; untying those knots in the dark would be nearly impossible.

He felt Mikey suddenly stiffen, and glanced up at him, then following the direction he was looking in, he twisted round, to see Charlie standing over him wielding what looked like a chair leg in his hands. Booth scarcely had time to react as Charlie brought the chair leg down in a crashing blow aimed directly at his head.

* * *

_Right, I'm off ;-)_

_ I'm hoping I'll get a chance to update while I'm away, but if you don't hear from me for a week don't worry, I will be back! Meantime, you can always tell me what you think. I love reading your comments.  
_


	25. Chapter 25 no reply

_Just for you all, here's another part! I'm working slowly on the one after this, but I'm on an azerty keyboard here in France, so I type very slowly. But I'm doing plenty of research for the next story. _

_I still don't own them and I'm still making no money._

* * *

Brennan stared at the phone in disbelief. "Still engaged," she muttered. Beside her Chymes resumed his pacing.

"There must be something to do," he said, stopping and glaring at her for a moment before picking up the pile of clothes on the chair and absentmindedly folding them up and packing them back in the suitcase that lay on the bed.

Brennan double checked the number she was dialing. Right number. Still no reply. She briefly considered dialing 911, but the thought of what Charlie might do to the boy if he heard sirens in the area of the motel didn't bear thinking about. Even the noise of cars turning up could draw attention they could not afford. And if he wasn't anywhere near the motel then bringing police cars would achieve nothing anyway. She needed the assistance of the local police to trace Charlie's car and find where he had taken the boy.

She walked to the door and peered out into the dark, trying to see if there was any sign of Booth, but she could see nothing. She tried the number once more, and talked to Chymes while she listened to the ringing on the other end. "So are you divorced then?"

He nodded. "When Sharon got drunk - and she was usually drunk - she would get violent as well. I said I couldn't take any more."

"But you left Mikey with her." It was a statement, not a question.

"The courts always give the child to the mother," he said bitterly. "She made herself out so good, she said I hurt her. I didn't, she banged her head as she fell down drunk, but she wouldn't tell the truth, and it hurt Mikey so much, to have us fight over him." Chymes ran his hands through his hair, leaving it stuck up on end. It momentarily reminded Brennan of Booth, and she longed for the case to be over, so they could relax together. And yet she could not bear the idea of it ending badly. They had to get Mikey back successfully.

"And then I went to get him today for a visit and she could hardly stand to open the door to me. Mikey - he has these bruises on his arms. I couldn't bear the thought of taking him back to that, so instead of taking him to my place for the night I put a bag in the car as well and we just set off driving. In the end we were so hungry, and we needed somewhere to stay the night, so we pulled in here. The rest you know. When your boyfriend said he was FBI, I just panicked. I was convinced he would see my guilt, would arrest me on the spot, in front of Mikey. I couldn't bear that."

"Did Mikey know you weren't intending to take him back?" Brennan asked curiously.

Chymes shook his head. "I don't know. I don't think so. I was just treating it like a big adventure, like let's see where we end up."

"Where were you heading to? What were you going to do when you got there?"

Chymes sank down on the bed and rubbed his face with his hands. "I don't know," he admitted, burying his face in his arms. "I just don't know."

Brennan turned her attention back to the phone, which had finally been picked up. "Hello? I need to speak to Robert Ford, please. It's Dr. Brennan. Dr. Temperance Brennan. No, I'm with the Jeffersonian Institute. No, I need to speak to Ford. It's regarding the case he's working on." She looked at Chymes, hesitated, then turned her back slightly, but kept talking, aware that Chymes was listening but not having time to worry about alarming him. "It's about the bodies at the building site. Yes. I have some important news. No, I won't tell it to you. Put Ford on, please."

She eventually managed to ascertain that Ford had slipped out for some food, and left her number requesting an urgent call back. She sighed and hung up, looking over at Chymes to see whether he had registered the significance of her words.

"Where's your boyfriend?" Chymes asked.

"He's checking out the buildings behind us. He won't be long," she assured him.

"Isn't that dangerous? I mean, what's this guy like? What does he want with my son?"

She shook her head. "I'm really not sure, Mr Chymes, but we'll do everything we can to find him." She looked impatiently at her phone, willing it to ring so that she could tell Ford what was going on and get some support. Despite her words, she was starting to feel concerned about Booth, who was taking rather a long time to check out a couple of sheds. She told herself that Booth was fine, that maybe he'd found some clue as to where Charlie and the boy were, but all the same she decided that as soon as she had spoken to Ford she would go check the sheds herself.

Although Booth would be back before then, of course. He would stroll back in any minute, maybe with an idea of where to look for the boy.

Damn Ford. Why didn't he call? She stared at the phone, sending out mental messages for the phone to ring.

* * *

_We return to Booth in the next chapter, I promise! Please let me know what you think._


	26. Chapter 26 danger

_Okay, I'm back in action now for the rest of the summer, and eager to get this one finished. I had a good time researching in France, and the next story is bubbling nicely on the hob and nearly ready to start writing. In the meantime, I guess we'd better get back to Booth and see how he's getting on..._

_Standard disclaimers apply, see other chapters for details. Enjoy the story!

* * *

_  
Booth was aware only of a throbbing pain in his head, as if a jackhammer was in there digging his brain out from the inside. He tried to open his eyes, but they refused to respond. He slowly became aware that he was lying on his back on what felt like a rough concrete floor. He felt the adrenalin surge as random images flashed into his head; boys' small, delicate bones; an adult's body with the skull smashed; an old garage, full of junk, with a boy tied up and gagged, hidden in a corner; and he realized he was in danger. He was lying sprawled on his back, and he had a vague feeling he was in a corner of the old garage he had been searching. He tried to reach to his holster for his gun, but an agony shot through his right arm the moment he tried to move it. He abandoned the attempt and lay still, thinking fast, instinctively controlling his breathing as an aid to bring the pain in his head and arm under control. He vaguely remembered turning round to see a weapon being held threateningly above his head, and putting his arm up to shield himself.

He heard a child's voice cry out in fear. Mikey! The memory surged through his head, leaving behind a wave of pain. He could only have passed out for a couple of minutes. He tried again to open his eyes, and this time they responded. He peered carefully around, without moving his head, and saw Charlie bent over the boy in the corner. He had replaced the gag, and was looking down at the trussed figure as if trying to figure out what to do.

Booth tried to force his aching brain into action. What the hell was he to do? There was no way to reach his gun without Charlie seeing. His right arm was useless; he knew instinctively that the bone was broken. There was no way to reach his gun in its holster left-handed without Charlie noticing. The only thing he might just be able to reach...

He felt carefully around with his left hand, which was on the opposite side of his body from Charlie and the boy. His jacket had flapped open, the pocket lying just on the top of his hand. In the pocket was his mobile phone, his only chance to fetch help. Cautiously, without making any movement or sound to attract Charlie's attention to him, he eased his left hand into the pocket. He found the phone, and managed to flick it open still inside the pocket. He felt it carefully, and hit the button his finger automatically went to without looking,

He saw Charlie pick up one of the cushions that were lying by Mikey's side, and approach the boy holding the cushion out. Booth could see that he had decided keeping the boy was far too dangerous under the circumstances, and had decided to dispose of the evidence. As Mikey's head thrashed from side to side in fear, Booth sent out a silent prayer that help would arrive in time to save the boy, then shifted his head and groaned out loud, attracting Charlie's attention towards him and giving Mikey the precious few more seconds that might make the difference between life and death.

* * *

_Well at least you know a little more about Booth's situation now ;-)_

_ Please let me know what you think. Reviews and comments always welcome, and may spur me on to write more quickly even without an assignment to avoid!_


	27. Chapter 27 rescue

_Okay, I'll put you all out of your misery. Well, nearly ;-)_

_Usual disclaimers apply, see previous chapters._

* * *

Brennan stared impatiently down at her phone. Where the hell was Ford?

When the phone finally rang, she jumped out of her skin. She hurriedly hit the answer button and held the phone to her ear. Nothing. Just faint scratching noises. "Hello? Hello?"

She looked down at the screen - the phone recorded an incoming call from Booth. She tried again, but still gained no response from the phone. She muttered a curse, supposing he'd dialed her accidentally. She disconnected, then tried calling Ford again.

"Who was it?" Chymes was crowding her, anxious to know what the call was about. She shook her head. "It was Booth, he must have hit the button by mist..."

Her voice trailed off, as she thought through her comment and realized that with Booth's flip-open phone it was more or less impossible to make calls accidentally. She hurriedly handed the phone over to Chymes. "When they answer, tell them it's urgent. Tell them to get a team down here right now. Something must be wrong. I'm going to check."

Chymes was almost bouncing on his feet. "What if you get hurt? What if he's hurt Mikey? Where are they?"

Brennan shook her head. "I don't know, but they can't be far away. Booth was checking the sheds out back. I'll try there first. You must keep trying to get the police. If they don't answer that call within a couple of minutes, dial 911. But I must go."

She was already at the door, and eased it open carefully, not revealing too much light as she exited the room. She half jogged round the back of the rooms, and saw the old garage standing there, a lean-to shed next to it. She hesitated between the two, then noticed the broken catch on the garage door. The door itself stood slightly ajar, and she eased it open silently. A few moments' pause produced no sound other than the sounds of the night around her, so she slipped into the garage and moved forward carefully. After a second or two her eyes adjusted to the level of light, and she became aware of a faint glow at the other end of the garage. This gave her both a goal and enough light to maneuver by, and a few strides brought her to the edge of a large wardrobe, round the corner of which was the light source.

She stood with her back to the wardrobe for a moment, controlling her breathing and making herself ready, then eased her view round the corner. What she saw made her heart stop. In one corner, next to a flickering lamp, was the boy from the diner, tied up tightly, with a gag round his mouth, and looking terrified. Just to one side of him stood Charlie, a wooden chair leg held threateningly above his head. And at his feet...

Brennan instantly sprang forward. If that blow met its target, it would shatter Booth's skull. Her mind conjured up pictures of skulls she had painstakingly pieced together. Booth's would not be one of them, she vowed.

Her movement and the shout that accompanied it attracted Charlie's attention, and the motel owner swung round. Now the chair leg was threatening her, but she didn't care. Fear for Booth propelled her forward towards Charlie and her foot met his hand, kicking the weapon out of his reach. Now he was unarmed. She stood motionless, feeling the beat of her heart, and braced herself for the attack. This was one fight she could not lose. As Charlie charged forward, she ducked under his fists and used his forward motion to knock him to the floor. He grunted as he made hard contact with the ground, and she balanced herself ready for his next attack. She was painfully aware of Booth lying on the ground behind her, but did not dare even glance in his direction until this battle was finished.

Charlie charged in again and managed to grab her round the neck. For a moment his superior weight gave him an advantage, but a hefty elbow in the ribs soon dealt with that. She grabbed his head and threw him over her shoulder, then landed heavily on top of him. He tried to roll over, and was reaching for the chair leg again. Brennan let him get halfway to his feet, then spun round, landing a powerful kick to the groin. Charlie collapsed to the ground, holding himself and screaming. Brennan bent over Booth, retrieved his handcuffs from his belt, and put them on Charlie, handcuffing the man to a convenient piece of furniture and ignoring his cries of distress. Only when she was sure the man was secure did she dare look closely at Booth.

The agent lay unconscious on the floor, bleeding heavily from a wound to his right temple. Brennan leant over him, listening carefully. His breathing seemed fairly steady, if somewhat shallow, and his pulse was faint but distinct. His right arm lay out from his body stiffly, and gentle probing with her fingertips revealed swelling indicative of fracture. She guessed that his arm had been thrown up to protect his head originally, thereby deflecting the first blow. His left hand was buried in his jacket pocket, and she found his phone in the pocket and switched it off, extremely grateful that he had been able to signal her in that way, and trembling at how near she had been to dismissing his call as an accidental dialing.

She heard groans from the other corner, and hurriedly moved to remove Mikey's gag and untie him. He rubbed his wrists, staring over at Booth. "Is he dead?"

She shook her head. "He's unconscious, but he's not dead. We just have to wait for help."

They heard the sound of sirens in the distance, and Brennan went to the garage door with Mikey, to find Chymes pacing outside looking anxious. "It's okay," she told him. "Mikey's okay, he's here."

Chymes rushed over and enveloped his son in a crushing hug.

"Dad!" protested the boy. "I'm okay." Brennan could see that despite his protests, he was enormously relieved to be reunited safely with his father.

"And Charlie?" Chymes looked at her over the top of the boy's head.

"He's secure." Brennan said no more but headed back inside to sit with Booth, who had not moved. Charlie threw curses at her from where he lay immobilised on the floor, but she ignored him, stemming the blow flow from Booth's head, gently stroking the side of his face, murmuring to him, willing and begging him to wake up. Even when the police walked into the garage and took Charlie away, then sent the ambulance crew in to fetch Booth, Brennan did not leave his side, and still he made no indication of waking up.

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_I thought it was about time we had Brennan rescuing Booth, instead of the other way around ;-) _

_Nearly finished! Thanks for all your comments and reviews - more always welcome. _


	28. Chapter 28 waking up

_Okay, here you go - the next part. And then there's only another 3 to go. I'd better get on with the next one, I suppose :-)_

_Usual disclaimers apply. Enjoy!

* * *

_

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The sound was hypnotic, soothing.

Beep.

"Booth, come on, wake up."

The voice belonged to a woman. She seemed worried about someone. He hoped they woke up soon.

Beep.

"Still no response." A man's voice.

"When will he wake up?" The woman.

"It's impossible to tell, I'm afraid. With this kind of head injury he could wake up any time, or remain in a coma for days."

"But he will be okay?"

"It's too early to tell. I'm sorry."

It sounded bad. Whoever he was, he hoped he would be okay.

Beep. Beep.

"Dr. Casey, I think he moved."

"...involuntary muscle spasm..."

Beep. Beep. That sound was starting to get annoying. He wished they would turn it off.

Beep.

"Booth, it's time to wake up. Squeeze my hand if you can hear me."

There was that voice again. She sounded nice. The man was lucky, whoever he was.

"Booth, please, I love you." Lucky indeed. He hoped that whoever the guy was, he appreciated her. If he had any sense, he would wake up and make her happy.

She sounded like she was crying, and he didn't like that. He could feel a hand in his, soft and warm, and he tried to squeeze it, to give comfort.

"I'm sure I felt him move."

He felt a bright light shine in his eyes, and he flinched away.

"There's some reaction evident."

"Booth, come on, please," the voice pleaded. He felt sorry for her. He wished the guy would wake up, so she would be happy.

Beep. Beep.

"Agent Booth, can you hear me?" This was a different voice, harsher and louder. He didn't like it, and shifted uncomfortably. Where was _she_?

"Booth, it's me. It's Bones." There she was. He relaxed again. "The boy's safe, Booth. We saved him, between us. He's with his father, and Charlie's in jail. You've got to wake up now, Booth. Please. I love you."

He felt her hand again, warm and comforting on his. She stroked the back of his hand, ran her fingers along his, squeezed his fingernails gently.

But why could he feel it? Was he Booth? Was he the man she had been crying over?

Again he tried to squeeze her hand, and this time she felt it, he could tell, because she immediately leaned closer until he could feel her soft breath on his face.

"Booth?"

He knew suddenly that it was time to wake up. He sent the signal to his eyes, but they failed to respond. He moved his head, restlessly.

"Booth?"

This time, the signal got through, and his eyes flickered open. He could see a shadow leaning over him, and as his eyes adjusted he could make out her face. She was as beautiful as he had imagined. Or should that be remembered?

"Booth, it's Bones. Can you hear me?"

His lips were dry, and when he tried to open his mouth it refused to move. She must have noticed, because she disappeared, and for a moment he felt lost, but she was soon back with a cup. She held a straw to his mouth, and thankfully he sipped at the water.

"Are you back with us?" Her voice still held concern, and he ached for her. He tried to nod his head, but that, too, was slow to respond.

"Doctor! He's awake!"

A man wearing a white coat came into view, and a familiar voice said, "Well, Agent Booth, I'm glad you decided to rejoin us."

"Dr. Casey." Booth's voice wasn't more than a whisper. The doctor looked surprised, but nodded.

"Yes, I'm Dr. Casey. I'm glad you're awake, we've been worried about you."

Booth looked away from him, seeking Bones again with his eyes.

She leaned forward, back into his view. "I'm here, Booth. How are you feeling?"

He tried to speak, licked his lips, then tried again. His voice was stronger this time. "My head hurts."

"Yes, I know. You were hit pretty hard. You have a fractured ulna, as well."

It was only then that Booth became aware that his right arm was encased in plaster. He tried to shift his head, to look down at it, but felt dizzy and lay still. Instead, he looked back at Bones, absorbing every detail of her worried face.

"I'm okay," he whispered to her. "It's okay."

She smiled at him, and squeezed his hand tightly.

"The boy's safe, and back with his dad," she said.

"I know," he nodded. "You told me."

"I did?" Bones looked puzzled. "You could hear what we were saying?" she said suddenly.

He was too weak to say much, but he nodded again.

"That's how you know Dr. Casey's name!" she exclaimed. Then she looked closer at him.

"How much did you hear?"

Booth managed a smile. "I love you too, Bones," he said, before slipping back into sleep.

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_Please let me know what you think of it - reviews always very welcome. I hope it looked okay - I changed the settings, and I hope it's only in my browser, but if the type was odd, I apologise.  
_


	29. Chapter 29 recovery

_Usual disclaimers apply. And now we're racing to the end of this story..._

* * *

It had been the longest 24 hours since the time when her parents disappeared. Brennan had been sitting with Booth constantly, dozing on an uncomfortable chair at his bedside, stroking his hand, talking to him, pestering the doctor and nurses with questions, focusing all her willpower on him waking up.

Now he had finally regained consciousness, and had spoken to her. He seemed to recognize her, to know where he was, and what had happened. And then he had fallen asleep again. Finally Brennan agreed to go to the nearby hotel to sleep properly, but had been back at his side before he woke up again early the next morning.

"Bones?" He shifted his head on the pillow and gazed at her earnestly. She fought back a smile, as she bent forward and kissed him gently on the lips.

"I'm here," she said softly. "How are you feeling?"

He moved as if to raise his right hand to his face, remembered, and raised the left one instead, feeling the bandage on his head gently and wincing. "My head feels ready to explode, and my arm is throbbing, but apart from that - I'm just great." He gave her what had probably started out as a smile, but ended as a grimace of pain.

"You can expect to feel rough for a while, Booth. Just get plenty of rest."

He frowned. "What day is it?"

"It's Sunday morning. You were unconscious for nearly 24 hours. Then you slept soundly all night."

"Parker..." He struggled suddenly to sit up, and she gently placed her hands on his shoulders, pushing him down onto the bed again.

"There's no way you're fit to go get Parker, Booth. You need to stay here, under observation, until you've got the all-clear. That head injury could have been nasty. If you hadn't deflected the blow with your arm, your skull would have shattered. Just like Matt Garrison. The weapon checked out, by the way. It already had traces of blood on it that matched Garrison's. You were very lucky."

He sat pondering that for a moment, and she absently thought of the Xrays she had studied the day before. She shivered as she thought how close she had come to losing Booth, and he must have picked up on that, because he took her hand and squeezed it gently.

"I must tell Rebecca," he said.

Brennan shook her head. "It's okay, Booth, I called her, I talked to her."

She guessed he must be thinking about the last conversation she had had with Rebecca, because he looked concerned rather than relieved by her statement. "It's alright," she repeated, stroking his hand soothingly. "I explained the situation to her. I think she understood."

"Understood? Yeah, I bet she understood," he said bitterly. "Understood that she has even more excuse to keep him away from me permanently."

"That's not going to happen," Brennan said confidently, hoping she was right. She thought of the conversations she had had with Rebecca, first of all telling her that Booth was unconscious in hospital, then letting her know he had woken up. Rebecca had seemed genuinely concerned, and the two women had had a long conversation.

Booth did not seem convinced. Only the pain in his head stopped him from throwing off all the sensors and tubes and climbing out of bed. A nurse appeared, demanding to know why he was so agitated, and gave him some painkillers that made him sleepy, and as Brennan sat next to him he gradually closed his eyes and slept again. When he woke it was midafternoon. He just lay, looking at Brennan, and she guessed he was thinking about the time he should be spending with Parker at the zoo. "They should discharge you tomorrow morning," she said, in an attempt to console him. "I'll drive us home, and then you can call Rebecca and sort out when you can see Parker."

"She won't let me see him," Booth said morosely.

"Come on, Booth, stop being so negative. I didn't think you were the type to give up," Brennan scolded him. He looked up, as if hurt by her words.

"I haven't given up, Bones. I just don't want the kid to get hurt."

"And Rebecca doesn't want you or Parker to get hurt," Brennan explained patiently. "She's in a difficult situation, Booth."

He looked up at her sharply, then shrugged. "I guess I'm going to be free for a while, with this," he said, indicating his plastered arm. "Maybe I can see more of Parker to make up for this weekend. Just until they move."

"Maybe." Brennan gave him a small smile. No need to say anything until Booth was on his feet again, and they could sort things out properly.

The next morning, Booth was duly discharged, and climbed wearily into his car so Brennan could drive him home. He sat quietly, saying little, and Brennan found herself glancing over at him as she drove, concerned at his silence. "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah." Booth tried to summon up a smile, and she appreciated the effort he was making, guessing he still felt bad about missing the day out with Parker.

"Do you feel up to calling into the lab?" she asked. "I promised the others I'd give them a full account of what happened, and I think Angela wants to see for herself that you're okay."

"If you want." Booth gazed out of the window.

"Booth..." She saw him turn to face her. "Please - I still haven't told them anything about us. Not us as - well, as us. Would you mind if we kept it quiet for a while longer? I'm still not used to the idea."

He looked disappointed, but nodded his agreement. "I won't say anything," he promised. "It's up to you. They're your friends."

"They're our friends," she corrected him. "But I'm the one who works with them every day. Just - let's have a bit of time together before we let them know, okay?"

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_Okay, we have a chapter with the squints next, so if there's anything you're unsure of in this story please let me know so it can all be cleared up. Then there will be an epilogue, and then I'd better get writing the next one, I suppose! It will be called A Weekend Break._

_As always, reviews gratefully accepted :-) _


	30. Chapter 30 report

_Usual disclaimers apply, please see first part_

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Booth greeted Angela with a smile, although his head was throbbing. He walked past her, into Brennan's office, and sank down gratefully onto the couch. He slipped his arm out of the sling and stretched it along the back of the couch, resting his head back thankfully. Brennan put her hand on his shoulder, and he looked up at her. 

"Are you okay? Do you want some aspirin or something?" she asked.

He smiled gratefully at her. "More or less, and no I'm okay, thanks," he said, and she nodded and disappeared.

A few minutes later she was back, accompanied by the rest of the squints. Angela, he was pleased to note, was carrying a tray with steaming mugs of coffee on it.

Brennan sat down next to him on the couch, with Zack at the other end. Angela and Hodgins pulled up chairs and sat facing them, anxious to hear the full story. Booth had not spoken to any of them since they had identified the bodies, and he was gratified to notice the looks of concern they were casting his way.

Then Brennan twisted round slightly on the couch to face the others, leaning against his chest, and he caught Angela's eye. The artist was looking surprised and pleased at how comfortable Brennan seemed to feel with him. Booth had to admit to himself that he felt pretty good about it too.

"As you know by now, it was Charlie the motel owner who was responsible for the deaths of the boys and of the second boy's father," Brennan began, wrapping her hands around her coffee mug.

Hodgins nodded eagerly. "You said he was a fan of your book. That should have been a warning to start with."

"Hodgins!" protested Brennan. "Not everyone interested in books on crime is a murderer!"

Booth leaned forward to pick up his coffee in his left hand, and suppressed a grin, again exchanging glances with Angela.

"He was barred from seeing his son following a bitter divorce and accusations of violence," Brennan went on, apparently deciding to ignore Hodgins.

"So when Jason Swift and his father turned up at the motel, it felt like a personal insult," Booth put in. "There he was, banned from seeing the son he loved, and Ryan Swift was there with his kid, and didn't seem to know how to handle the boy."

"Jason Swift actually looked similar to Charlie's son," Brennan went on, "so Charlie tried kidnapping him and scaring Ryan away from reporting it. As we know, he succeeded."

"We can only guess at what went wrong," Booth continued. "Perhaps he thought he could pretend Jason was his son. Perhaps he took his temper out on the boy. Perhaps he abused him. But whatever he did, we know that Jason was killed soon after Charlie kidnapped him. Then Charlie buried the body over the road on the waste ground."

Brennan took up the tale. "Six months ago another father and son turned up at the motel. Charlie tried the same trick again, but this time the father refused to be scared off. He must have followed Charlie, and Charlie attacked him with a chair leg, shattering his skull." She put her hand on Booth's knee as she said this, and Hodgins suddenly started choking in his coffee. Booth caught his eye, and Hodgins raised his eyebrows in an expression of mock admiration. Brennan, completely unaware of this exchange, continued her explanation. "Perhaps he panicked then, and killed the boy as well. Again, he buried the bodies over the road, on the waste ground."

"But they started building on the waste ground," Angela put in. Brennan nodded.

"Yes, and they found Jason's body. That's when I got called in."

"And then the other bodies," said Zack wisely.

"When I stayed at the motel, Charlie was genuinely pleased," Brennan explained. "But when Booth stayed he started to feel a little nervous. When we left he felt he'd got away with it, and then Mikey and his Dad turned up and he must have felt like it was his birthday."

"But then we went back," Booth said. "And he really didn't want us around. We thought at first he was just nervous around me because I'm a cop. But he had planned to take Mikey, and was worried we would spoil his plan. He also knew far too much about what we were investigating. We thought it was just local rumour, but the waitress hadn't heard anything about the bodies."

"But where was he?" Hodgins wanted to know. "You thought he'd taken the boy somewhere in his car."

Booth nodded. "That was my fault," he admitted. "When I questioned Charlie that afternoon he was working on his car. When his car had then moved in the evening I assumed he was out in it, but in fact it had been taken to the garage, to deal with an oil leak. Charlie hadn't gone far at all. We think he was in the little shed next to the garage. He had a stack of kids' clothes there, just the right size for Mikey and the other boys. He saw me searching the place, followed me into the garage and whacked me."

"It's only because Booth was able to call for help before he blacked out that he and Mikey are still alive," Brennan commented, leaning into his chest comfortably and rubbing her hand on his thigh. This time both Angela and Hodgins were fighting to hold back laughter.

As the squints left her office to recommence work, Brennan turned to Booth with a satisfied smile on her face. "I don't think they guessed a thing," she said confidently.

He smiled at her. "Uh – I hate to burst your bubble, but Angela suspected something as soon as she saw you snuggling up to me on the couch, and when you put your hand on my knee Hodgins worked things out as well," he pointed out gently.

"I didn't..." Brennan realized she was still settled comfortably against him, and jumped up and strode to her desk.

Booth stood up and walked over to her. He indicated the three squints, who were still visible the other side of the lab floor. Hodgins and Angela were busy talking to Zack, who was shaking his head and looking disbelieving.

Brennan followed his gaze. "Oh." She looked back at him and appeared to be thinking deeply. Then she shrugged. "I guess if they know already, I don't need to fight the temptation to do this." And she wrapped her arms round his neck and pulled him close for a passionate kiss.

Before he relaxed into the kiss Booth was vaguely aware of Hodgins and Angela pumping the air triumphantly, while Zack was pulling money out of his pocket and handing it over to each of them.

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_Just the epilogue to go now, to tie up the last loose end. Then I need to get started on the next story!_

_Thanks for staying with me. I appreciate it._


	31. Epilogue

_Here we are, then. The last part of the story! I never expected it to be this long, honest. But thanks for sticking with me.  
_

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**Epilogue. The next evening.**

Brennan was nervous. She knew how important this dinner date was. If anything went wrong… She could not think of that. She could only do her best, and trust that things would go okay.

She slipped into the booth and smiled a greeting. The answering smile looked just as nervous. They ordered drinks, and began talking, tentatively at first, then as they both relaxed the mood lightened slightly and they both began to enjoy themselves.

It was only a few minutes later that she glanced up and saw Booth walking into the restaurant. Her heart sank. This was it. The moment when the truth would come out. So much of her future could ride on the next few minutes.

She stood up, her knees trembling slightly, and waved to him. He saw her and changed his path, sending a huge smile in her direction. It faded abruptly as he saw her companion. "What the hell are you doing here?" he snapped.

Brennan put a calming hand on his arm. "It's okay, Booth. Just sit down," she soothed him.

Booth reluctantly slipped into the seat beside her, glaring across the table. "What the hell's going on?" he demanded.

"We thought it was about time you two had a proper talk," Brennan explained. "I'll stay if you want, but it's up to you. I don't want to get in the way."

Booth looked from one to the other, still looking extremely suspicious. "This is a set-up, isn't it?" he said. "You planned this, both of you."

"Yes." Rebecca spoke for the first time. "Seeley, we need to talk. I mean really talk, not yelling like we usually end up. It's important, for all our sakes. For you and me, and for Parker."

At the sound of his son's name, Booth's face darkened. "You're taking him away from me," he accused her. "You're moving out of town, remember?"

Rebecca shook her head. "No, I'm not," she said calmly. "I – I've been thinking. Maybe it's not the best thing for him." She exchanged glances with Brennan, who remembered the relief she had felt when Rebecca had first told her the news. Her words to Booth's ex-girlfriend had had an effect after all, it appeared.

Booth's face lost some of its thunder, but he still looked unsure of himself. "Then – what is there to talk about? We're just going on as we are, aren't we?"

"Perhaps," said Rebecca. "But Parker's getting older now, Seeley. We can't just hand him over and back like a toy. We need to sort out exactly what's going to happen about school, and about my job. I want to work out a new arrangement with you."

Brennan sat back in her seat, listening to the discussion, her hand firmly clasped in Booth's hand. He and his ex-girlfriend were talking properly, for the first time since Parker had been born, according to Rebecca, and maybe, just maybe, they could come up with some arrangement that would suit them both. But more importantly, they had to find some way for Parker to spend time with both the father and the mother he loved dearly.

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_Thanks for reading; I hope you've enjoyed it! I've enjoyed reading all your comments as you read through the story. And now it's time for me to concentrate on the other stories I have in the pipeline. And to finish reading all the updates you guys did while I was away a couple of weeks ago!_


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